Caroline and the Sperm Donor
by Jana
Summary: Alternative Universe! Richard, in fear of losing his job, offers unique assistance to Caroline without considering the consequences. Chapter 13 of 15?
1. Chapter 1

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 1**

XXX

--"Do you still need sperm?" Richard Karinsky asked abruptly, unaware of what he was actually saying. Or offering.

The question stopped Caroline Duffy dead in her tracks, the ascent up the stairs coming to a screeching halt. Needing a moment to digest what he'd said- what she thought she heard- she turned in slow motion. Her furrowed brow showed her complete and utter confusion.

"What?" she asked, her position on the steps cemented.

Only a sense of panic could have brought on such a statement. Richard was in full panic mode. He had always hated his job, but with the possibility of losing it, and with it his daily connection to Caroline, the rash words flew out of his mouth.

"You know," he explained himself, "Before? You asked if I would ever consider donating sperm?"

Intrigued by the possible direction this all was going in, she inched down one step, nodding only slightly. "Yeah?"

"It's not something I would normally do," he rushed on, still attempting to save his job, "but if it's something that's important to you, then, you know, you can have my—You can have my sperm."

Caroline cracked a smile, wiping it off her face a second later. She had no idea what was going on. His behavior had been nothing less than bizarre all day long, but whatever **was** going on, she wanted to get to the bottom of it.

"You would be willing to give me your sperm?" she asked, suppressing a grin, and he nodded only slightly in return. "Why?"

There was no logical answer to that question. "I don't know," he stated with all honesty, "But if you want it, you can have it."

Taking two more steps down the stairs, she asked, "You do understand what happens with donated sperm, right?"

His mind was starting to clear, regret taking the place of panic. God, what have I started here, he asked himself.

"I'm not an idiot, Caroline," he replied, trying for sarcasm but failing.

Completely forgetting about Jeannie's request for one of her eggs, Caroline took another step away from her room. "And knowing what I would be doing with it-- You would be ok with that?"

Swallowing had never seemed so hard in his entire life. "Sure?" It was more of a question than an answer.

"You want to have a baby with me, Richard?" she asked, taking the final step off the stairs, standing ground level with him.

There had to be a way to save face in the midst of this, he told himself. The previous fear over losing his job was all but gone, making it's way for self-loathing. "Sperm donors don't have children," he answered her. "They are released from that responsibility."

"So," she pressed further, "You would be ok with me having your child, as long as he or she doesn't call you 'daddy'?"

Richard sighed, pulling his glasses from their position and running his hand over his face in frustration. "If you're going to do this," he stated carefully, "Then I think it would be better to know exactly whose DNA your getting, don't you?"

"I never really thought of it that way," she murmured, her thoughts trailing off. Truth was, she wasn't thinking of it at all. She only asked him about donating sperm to get some perspective, because her friend and ex-colorist Jeannie wanted **her** to donate her eggs. Since she promised she wouldn't discuss the issue with anyone besides Annie, their mutual friend, she used the closest analogy she could when broaching the subject with Richard.

Somehow, he must have caught wind of what was going on, but assumed it was Caroline who was looking to get pregnant.

The idea of getting pregnant by a sperm donor had never once crossed her mind, but now, it was more than just crossing it.

"Wouldn't that be awkward," she asked, coming out of her reverie, "For me to be pregnant, give birth, have this child around you all the time, you knowing you're the father?"

Answering as if on auto-pilot, he said, "I can detach."

"Would you still be able to work for me?" she asked carefully. "Be my friend?"

He nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes leaving hers and finding the floor. More than anything, he wanted to just say 'nevermind' and rush out the door, but he knew that he couldn't do that **now**. As inconceivable as it was, to have to see it through, he had to finish what he started.

It all started because he didn't want to lose his job. He had no idea, looking back, how he'd gotten to this point.

A gentle smile graced Caroline's face. The idea of helping a friend create a little life that was part her had stirred feelings in her, feelings that she had long ago buried because there was no husband in her life to make the dream a reality.

But in this day and age, women had children without a ring on their fingers all the time. Why couldn't she?

"The process might be unpleasant for you," she ventured further, just to see how serious he was. If he was going to rescind, she wanted to know **now**, before she got her hopes up any higher.

"The thought had crossed my mind," he muttered, still avoiding eye contact. He had no idea how the two situations were related-- Caroline wanting to hire back her old assistant and wanting to be pregnant, but the former was going to have to wait.

Besides, he was completely sure that if he did this- if he gave Caroline his sperm- there was no way she would fire him. That was how the two were connected for him, so that's what he chose to focus on.

"They put you in a sterile room," she continued, "Pop, in some porn, and then you get, you know, **intimate**, with a cup."

Richard groaned. "Ugh! Caroline! Was that **really** necessary?"

"Sorry," she apologized with an almost impish smirk. "Just want to be sure you know what you would be getting yourself into. I wouldn't want you to back out after agreeing," she added.

"So," he asked nervously, "Does that mean you are, accepting, my offer?"

Nodding, she stepped forward with her arm extended, prepared to shake hands on the deal. "Yes," she said with all the seriousness in the world, "I am."

Slowly, he took her hand, shaking with her as a sort of unwritten pact. "Ok," he whispered, all the while his brain was screaming at him to back out at once.

"If you'll excuse me," she said, withdrawing her hand and heading back for the stairs to her loft, "I just have a few phone calls to make."

Sprinting up the steps, she dialed the phone as she went, addressing the party on the other line as soon as they picked up. "Jeannie, hi. It's Caroline. Um, I'm afraid I have some bad news…"

Richard sighed, dropping down in the chair nearest the couch. "My job is secure," he mumbled to himself, "But at what cost?"

"I love you Jeannie, you know that," Caroline said into the phone once in the privacy of her room, "But, I'm afraid I can't give you my egg. Turns out, I'm going to be needing it."

**XXX**

--Richard sat fidgeting, the room being crowded and the walls being adorned with pictures of pregnant women, babies in utero, and tiny newborns only adding to his anxiety.

"How did I get here?" he asked himself quietly, forgetting at that moment that Caroline's best friend Annie Spadaro was seated a measly three feet in front of him.

"By taxi," she muttered disinterestedly, her attention more on an article about breast pumps. "That's gotta hurt," she said to no one, shuddering before turning the page.

"This is **your** fault," he snipped at the brunette, leaning in so as not to be overheard. "If you hadn't tried to convince me that Caroline was looking to hire Jeannie back, I wouldn't be here!"

"**Tried** to convince you?" she shot back with a laugh. "Tell me, Richie, just how many scratches **did** you get giving Salty the ol bathe and fluff?"

"Too many!" he griped, adding, "She won't give me a moment's peace now!"

Annie laughed heartily, but stopped when he shot her a glare in response. "Look, Richie," she said to him, gaining seriousness, "If you don't want to do this, then just, tell Caroline you don't want to do it! She'll understand," she assured him. "Hell, she's been asking you if you're sure every day since you agreed to it!"

"I can't do that to her," he whispered, resolved to his fate. "It would crush her."

"Suggest she use a donor from the registry then," she offered, taking new interest in her magazine.

He shook his head. "It's twice as expensive!" Glancing first at the surrounding people, he added, "Besides, do you have any idea the kind of gene pool people who donate have? She'd wind up with a drooling idiot!"

"You wanna know what **I** think? She asked, dropping the magazine she had been thumbing through down on the table that separated her from him.

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway," he replied flatly.

"I think you **want** to do this!" she told him sharply, teasing him.

"Oh, yeah," he muttered sarcastically, "Getting friendly with a plastic cup has always been high on my list of goals for my life."

"Not **that**," she snipped, "The 'having a baby with Caroline' part-"

"I knew what you meant!" he shot back, interrupting her, spotting Caroline on the approach a second later. "Just **drop it**, ok?"

"Done with your forms yet?" Caroline asked happily, taking a seat next to Annie, completely unaware of the smile her friend wore, and was directing at the annoyed blond seated across from her.

Shortly, his irritation showing, he passed the forms, clipboard and all over to Caroline.

"Are you ok?' she asked him, receiving a brief nod from him in response. "You know, Richard," she said to him sotto, "If you want to back out of this-"

"For the love of God!" he whispered harshly, interrupting her, "Would you **please** stop saying that to me?!"

"I just want to be sure-" She tried again, only to be cut off again.

"I'm sure, ok? I've told you that a thousand times!"

"If you're so sure," she asked, "Then why are you acting so irritated?"

"Forgot to take his bran today?" Annie interjected, only to be ignored.

"It's nothing," he said, evening his tone of voice for Caroline's benefit. "I have a headache, is all."

"A strong, strong headache, no doubt," Annie baited him, smirking to herself.

Glaring at Annie, Richard asked Caroline, "Did you **have** to bring her?"

"She's my best friend, Richard," Caroline defended herself, "And this is a big deal for me! I brought her along for support!"

"Richard Karinsky? We're ready for you," a nurse announced as she stood in the doorway to the waiting room.

He stood slowly, almost as if preparing to meet his eminent demise. He had only taken two steps when he heard her wisecrack behind him.

"Go get 'em, Richie!"

Only hesitating for a moment, he attempted to ignore her as he continued after the woman in white he was following, trying not to think too hard about the task in front of him.

"Annie, please," Caroline pleaded, "Ease up on him today, ok?"

"Fine, fine," Annie mumbled, unhappy about giving up her intended fun.

**X**

--"After you're done depositing your specimen," the nurse explained to Richard, "You'll place the cup on the platform of the revolving window, then push this button to signal that you have." She pointed to each before continuing. "Then you will vacate the room and take a seat back in the waiting area."

He nodded his understanding, moving to lock the door as soon as she stepped through it. His eyes scanned the room for a moment, a look of disgust crossing his face. Spotting the box on the counter near the sink, he quickly grabbed a latex rubber glove, snapping it onto his left hand. Then, as if they were toxic waste, he lifted a porn magazine out of the stack with his gloved hand by just the corner and placed it on the counter, flipping it open to a random page.

He looked at the naked woman displayed there for a moment or two, then turned the page. Another naked woman graced that page as well, but still there wasn't the slightest stirrings.

Sighing, irritated, he turned to the next page. Nothing.

This is not working, he thought to himself, but an idea soon followed. He closed his eyes, seeing Caroline there in the darkness. She smiled, her tight dress eloquent and sexy, her figure accentuated.

He felt himself responding. This was working.

**X**

--"He's been in there a long time," Annie offered as she flipped absently through yet another parent-minded magazine. "Hope he isn't having a, **hard** time." She smirked in amusement at her quip, but quickly wiped it away off Caroline's glare.

"Annie," Caroline scolded, "This is difficult for him! To do something **so** private, in a place like **this**. He has to be riddled with anxieties!"

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry," Annie apologized. "I'll stop."

"I mean, he's being nice enough to do this for me," Caroline chattered nervously, "The least we can do is allow him to exit this with a little dignity."

"True," Annie agreed, "But Caroline," she added, "Through all this, did you ever stop to ask yourself why?" 

"Why, what?" Caroline asked, but before Annie could answer, they both saw Richard heading towards them.

"Hey, Richie," Annie teased, "Make a new friend?"

Richard glared at her as he retook his original seat, pressing his fingertips to his forehead, obscuring his view of her and Caroline both with his palm.

"You promised!" Caroline scolded Annie in a whisper, then turned her attention back to Richard. "It wasn't **that** bad, was it?" she asked him.

"I'll live," he muttered, dropping his hand onto his lap.

The needed images he'd conjured up, in order to finish what he'd had to do, still played through his mind, creating the need to distance himself from the red-head who now stared back at him intently.

"Caroline, please," he said, refusing to meet her eyes, "I feel self conscious enough already. Stop staring at me."

"Sorry," she apologized, looking away and taking an exaggerated interest in the magazine Annie continued to thumb through. "Oh, look!" she announced quietly, "Breast vs. bottle article! Hand that over!" She snatched the magazine from Annie's hand, leaving her friend to examine her skin for possible paper cuts.

**X**

--"What do you suppose is taking so long?" Caroline asked as she checked her watch for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Relax, Caroline, they're just checking the motility of Richie's little swimmers first," Annie reminded. "Making sure they can hit the pool without a lifevest," she added, hiding her smirk behind the magazine she was holding.

"Ms. Duffy?" the nurse called, reading aloud the name printed on the blue folder she carried in her hands. "We're ready for you."

Caroline stood, then glanced back at Richard and Annie before asking, "Can my friends come in with me?"

"Caroline, I don't think--"

"Yes, of course," the nurse interrupted Richard.

Richard was shaking his head slowly and purposefully as Caroline grabbed his hand and gave a strong tug.

"Richard," she near-whined, "This is the most important thing I will ever do in my life. I want you in there with me."

Physically and emotionally relenting, he allowed Caroline to pull him from his seat. "Fine."

"Thank you," she whispered, smiling slight as she linked arms with him, the three of them then following the nurse down the hall.

**X**

--"You can change into **this** gown behind **that** curtain," the nurse instructed, handing Caroline the gown then pointing at the curtain.

"Does this mean Richie here isn't shootin' blanks?" Annie asked, to which Richard glared in return.

"The doctor can explain all that to you," the nurse answered, "But he wouldn't have asked me to prep the patient if the specimen wasn't viable."

"Wow, Richie," Annie gushed after the nurse left the room, "You made a new friend **and** you learned something new about yourself. Big day!"

"Annie," Caroline warned from behind the curtain, "You promised to behave."

"I know, I know," she laughed, "It's just all too easy!"

"Yes," Richard returned dryly, "But your sexual promiscuity isn't the subject at hand, at the moment."

Annie smirked appreciatively at his comeback.

"Guys," Caroline scolded as she exited from behind the privacy screen in the barely-fitting hospital gown, "I'm about to have embryos **inserted** into my uterus here. **Stop** the bickering now, **please**!"

"Sorry," Annie and Richard both apologized, Richard turning around out of respect when Caroline attempted to hop up on the exam table as she cinched her gown closed in the back with one hand.

**X**

--The doctor explained the procedure, speaking of how the sperm specimen had good motility, and that they were able to fertilize 5 eggs successfully.

But even with as clinical and almost detached as the doctor was, Richard still inched himself into a corner in the back of the room, feeling as though he was somehow intruding.

"Richard, come over here," Caroline called to him, holding her hand out for him to take as Annie stood beside her and held her other hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked anxiously. "I don't want to, **see** anything I shouldn't be, you know, seeing."

"Just stay up by my head and you'll be fine," Caroline assured him, still waiting with her hand extended so he would step up and take it.

Slowly, he walked towards her, averting his eyes from her lower body and entwining his fingers with hers.

"Are you ok?" he asked, noting how almost frightened she looked.

"Nervous, but good," she told him with a whisper of a smile.

He nodded, squeezing her hand gently in support. "Why 5 embryos?" he asked the doctor, only glancing in his general direction.

"It gives us the best odds that at least one will attach," was the doctor's distracted answer.

"And what if all 5 attach?" Richard asked curiously.

"That rarely happens," the doctor returned, almost dismissively.

"But it **does** happen," Richard pressed further, starting to get slightly annoyed.

"Rarely," the doctor answered shortly, and Richard gave a 'hmph' sound in response.

"Don't worry, Daddy," the nurse addressed Richard, "Twins happen occasionally but larger multiples are rare."

"And he's not the daddy," Annie interjected. "He's the sperm donor."

"Oh." The nurse seemed a bit bewildered. "The sperm donors don't usually stick around for this part."

"Well," Annie offered in explanation, "This is a bit of an unusual situation."

"Oh?" the nurse asked, obviously interested in receiving details.

Before Annie could reply, Richard snipped her name at her, stopping her, then turned to the nurse. "Excuse me, but is knowing our exact situation needed information for working, down **there**?"

"No, sir," the nurse apologized sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

"We're friends," Caroline offered after several minutes of awkward silence. "We're just really good friends." Her statement accompanied a firm squeeze of Richard's hand.

**TBC**

Author's note:

This is my first CitC fanfic in, what feels like, a million years. Just got to watching my old VHS tapes of the show, and the idea hit me, and I just couldn't shut my brain up! So I grabbed a spiral bound notebook and started writing. I'm on my 4th notebook now and have over 400 pages completed. This story will be between 15 and 18 chapters, I believe.

This is an 'alternative universe' fic, so some of the character's personality traits might seem a bit off, for example, Annie, in later chapters, might seem a bit more intelligent then she was portrayed on the show. Well, it's my universe, and I can do whatever I want, so there! (J/K) LOL

Ok, in this universe, Julia is not in the picture in any way shape or form. Even though the episode this concept came from, 'Caroline and the Egg' was a season 3 episode, and Julia was annoyingly **in** season 3, she's not in my story! Poof! That easy! Bye, Julia!

Also, for the moment, this fic is rated 'T' or 'PG-13', but this rating will go up to 'M' or 'R' in chapter 8, so if you're liking the fic and don't want to lose track of it when the rating changes, put the story on alert.

Ok, so, for those who don't know, reviews make my world go round and round. Without them, I feel lost, like an empty vessel on unforgiving seas. Ok, well, maybe I'm exaggerating just a wee bit, but reviews **ARE** very important to me, and since this fandom sees very few visitors, it's more imperative than ever that if you read this, you review it! Even if you don't like it! But, hey, if you don't like it, be gentle. My ego bruises easily.

Ok, so, that's it for now. We'll meet again at the next chapter! MTLBYAKY


	2. Chapter 2

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 2**

XXX

--Caroline bounced excitedly as Richard walked through the door of her apartment, causing him to take pause.

"Excited?" he asked, receiving a nod, then a shake of Caroline's head.

"Have to pee," she told him, continuing her dance-of-sorts. "You get it?"

He held up the small brown bag before switching it from one hand to the other, allowing himself to remove his thread-bare coat and hang it on the hook. "I **know** this wasn't in the job description," he muttered, handing over the item she had been waiting all morning for.

Snatching it from his hand, she made a bee-line for the downstairs bathroom, slamming the door in her wake.

"You know," he called out as he approached the coffeemaker, "If it's positive, you won't be able to have regular coffee anymore. You'll have to switch to decaf."

"What's the point of **that**?" she called back, bringing a smile to Richard's face.

Agreeing with her on that particular subject, he said nothing in response as he stepped up to his side of the partner's desk with his mug in hand.

Minutes ticked by in slow motion, the wait becoming almost torturous. Both possible scenarios offered their own unique set of problems, Richard realized, and he was anxious to learn which set of issues he was about to be faced with.

If the test was negative, he would have a crying and devastated Caroline to tend to. That scenario appealed to him the least. He hated to see her cry. If the test was positive, he would inevitably have nine months of constant distractions and 'baby talk'. A far more tolerable situation, but he would have to play it just right.

Above anything else, above the inconveniences he would be faced with in the wake of either result, he wanted her to be happy. So, to **that** end, he found himself silently hoping that the test would be positive and Caroline's dreams would come true.

Finally, the door to the bathroom opened, and Caroline slipped out, her expression unreadable.

"Well?" Richard asked after several seconds, holding his breath unknowingly.

The smile burst across her face without her consent, giving away her following announcement.

"It's positive," she whispered, tears of joy welling in her eyes instantly. If not for those happy tears, she just might have seen the smile flicker briefly across Richard's face before he checked his emotions.

"Congratulations, Caroline," he said with all sincerity, wrapping her in a short-lived hug. "So," he quickly changed the subject, stepping away from her and back towards his work station, "What would you like me to start on today?"

It only took a moment of sifting through the finished panels before one in particular caught his attention.

Holding it up, he asked, "Caroline baby shower cards? Wishful thinking?"

She shrugged, smiling slightly. "Busy work. Last night," she explained. "I couldn't sleep, knowing I was going to be taking the test today."

"Alright, so, baby shower--" He tried to distance himself, emotionally and physically, from the elation Caroline was feeling and exhibiting, sensing its contagiousness. "Pastels, probably," he muttered, selecting colors he felt would work best, straining to avoid looking over at the woman he just **knew** was staring at him.

Caroline watched him intently. Curiously. Trying to gauge where he was exactly on the news that she was carrying his child. Sure, he said he wanted no actual involvement. No title of father or anything else, but that aside, he had to have **some** feelings on the matter.

Detachment was one thing, but the distance he was now conveying seemed to come from a different place entirely. It seemed to Caroline that it was almost forced. Any further thought on the issue was shattered, however, by the entrance of Caroline's best friend and next door neighbor.

"Well?" Annie nearly shouted, excited and bursting to hear good news.

"I'm pregnant," Caroline announced, then both girls screamed loudly as they threw themselves into each other's arms.

The sudden noise caused Richard to jump noticeably, sighing in exasperation a second later. "Trying to work here," he snipped to the room, his attention back on the panel in front of him.

Caroline apologized, but Annie just made a 'pppth' sound and headed into the kitchen and for the coffeemaker.

"So, Richie," Annie started in on him immediately, "You're gonna be a dada!"

Richard glowered, raising his pencil to show that he was about to make a point. "Sperm donor," he stated matter-of-factly, then returned to his work.

"Annie," Caroline requested in a hushed tone, "Leave him alone."

Annie just rolled her eyes and changed the subject. "You know what we should do today?" she asked rhetorically. "We should go baby clothes shopping!"

Before Caroline could respond, Richard interjected. "They say you shouldn't do that until you're at least three months along."

Annie and Caroline looked at each other, then over at Richard in surprise.

"Who says that?" Annie asked, amused.

Richard inwardly cursed for opening himself up to Annie's unique brand of torture. "I read it in a book somewhere."

"In a **book**?' she questioned him with a smirk.

"Yeah, you know, a **book**?" he shot back. "Those little rectangular things full of words and sentences that dispense knowledge?"

"Right," she glossed over his slam easily. "Just trying to picture the book that has stories about Turkish prisoners eating their own waste **and** pregnancy advice," she teased, enjoying the subtle squirming from him that followed.

"Not all books revolve around the subject: How to win a man in ten easy steps," he snipped, then immediately headed for the bathroom, slamming the door harder than necessary once inside.

"Annie, please," Caroline begged, "I don't want what little enthusiasm he has for this squashed."

"Little enthusiasm," she scoffed, "Please! He's reading pregnancy books before you even know for sure if you're pregnant!" She fell silent for a moment as she headed for the door, turning back around once there. "Don't judge a book by it's cover, Caroline," she advised, then walked out the door.

--Richard glanced around the bathroom, only looking to kill time, really. He had only sought the room as an escape, not because he actually needed to use it.

When he caught sight of the bright pink and white box out of his peripheral vision, he turned to face it, knowing instantly what it was. He was, after all, the one that bought it.

Pinching a couple Kleenex out of the nearby tissue box first, he bent over the trash can, searching for what he knew would be in there. It took him no time at all to locate it.

Using the tissue as a form of protection of sorts, he gingerly lifted the stick out of the receptacle, staring down at it in amazement.

Two lines. Caroline is pregnant, he reminded himself. "With **my** child," he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Richard?"

Caroline's voice startled him slightly. Enough for him to drop the home test along with the Kleenex he had been using to hold it, back into the trash can.

"Yes?" he asked her through the door, his emotions masked once again.

"She's gone. You can come out now."

**XXX**

--Richard winced as he heard the sound repeat. A heavy sigh escaping, he stepped over into the kitchen, pulling a box of crackers out of the food cupboard. Removing a sleeve of them, he walked back over to the desk, placing them on her side before returning to his.

The sound of flushing, the water running for a few moments, and then she finally emerged, looking tired and pale.

"Maybe we should just move the desk in there," Richard quipped sarcastically, hiding his true concerns with a veil of indifference.

"Ha, ha," she croaked, her voice strained, her throat on fire. When approaching her side of the desk, she noticed them. "What are these?"

"Crackers," he said simply, feigning disinterest.

"I know that," she muttered with a roll of her eyes. "Why are they here?"

"They say crackers help with nausea," he answered neutrally.

"You seem to know a lot about what 'they' say," she stated carefully, not wanting to upset him. For whatever reason, he didn't seem to want her to know that he had been reading up on pregnancy.

"What can I say," he said with his typical cynical tone, "I'm a learned man."

She smiled weakly, ripping into the sleeve of crackers and removing one slowly. "My throat feels like I've been gargling gravel," she complained, taking a cautious bite of the salty square in her hand.

Richard instantly put his inking pen down and marched over to the fridge, retrieving something from inside and returning with it for Caroline.

"Ginger-ale?" she asked as she looked over the green and gold can.

"It **is** your favorite when you're not feeling well, isn't it?" he asked.

Tears welled in her eyes over his thoughtfulness, and he knew they were there before he even looked up into them.

"Ok, Caroline, I know you said to wait till you're three months along," Annie announced as she entered, shattering the brief tender moment Richard and Caroline were sharing, "But I couldn't resist!" She reached into the bag she was carrying and discarded it just as quickly.

She had produced a tiny black 'onesie' T-shirt, with the 'Cats' logo on the front and the words 'Annie's Godbaby' on the back.

"Annie," Caroline breathed, touched, new tears forming and blending with the old. "It's adorable!"

Richard mumbled something indiscernible in response, irritated by Annie's presence at that moment.

"Aww, what's the matter, Richie?" Annie's snide tone oozed. "Jealous?"

"Ah, yes," he returned sarcastically, "Now the shirt **I** bought that says: sperm donor's favorite infant, will seem anti-climactic."

Annie just scoffed and dismissed him with a wave of her hand, her attention back on Caroline.

For the first time since entering the apartment, Annie really looked at Caroline. "Hun, you look like shit."

Weakly, Caroline chuckled. "It's this stupid morning sickness. I don't think I've puked this much ever in my entire life!"

"Morning sickness?" Annie asked, glancing down at her watch. "It's almost four in the afternoon!"

"It's just what it's called, Annie," Richard explained. "It can happen at any time of day."

"Did'ja read that in your little Turkish prisoners/pregnancy info book?" Annie asked with a laugh, but Richard just ignored her. Responding with something of a grunt, she started towards the kitchen, to raid Caroline's fridge. "Isn't there anything the doctor can give you?" she asked, snagging a plastic container and sniffing its contents.

"Not really," Caroline told her, then held up the half-eaten cracker she was still working on. "But these are sorta helping."

"Crackers?" Annie asked as she returned the leftovers to the shelf and settled on an apple instead.

Caroline smiled. "Richard's idea!" she announced proudly, then pointed to the soda can that sat atop her desk. "He also bought me ginger-ale!"

Annie smirked. "Already running for snacks, eh, Richie?" He acknowledged her with a glance in her direction and nothing more. "Soon it'll be those two A.M. runs for pickles and ice cream!" she needled him, but still received nothing in the way of a reaction.

"You know," Caroline interjected, hoping to get Annie off the game she was trying to play with Richard, "I haven't really had any weird cravings yet. Wonder when those will kick in."

Without planning it, both Caroline and Annie looked to Richard, as if he would know the answer. When no answer was given, Annie jumped in.

"Haven't hit that chapter in your little book yet, huh?"

Irritated, Richard stood and headed for the front door. He didn't much care for Annie. She was crass and far too direct for his liking, and she seemed to take pleasure in other people's suffering. Well, his suffering, at least. Still, Caroline adored her. Why, he didn't know, but she did. For that reason alone, he put up with her.

"Richie," Annie spoke up when she saw the crestfallen look that took over Caroline's expression. "I'm just messing with you! C'mon, sit back down and color your little comic strips."

He paused at the door, and Annie smiled. She liked Richard well enough, but honestly, if not for Caroline's attachment to him, she probably wouldn't give him much more than the time of day. He was too uptight and pretentious for her liking, and mostly teased him to test him. See if there was a human being beneath the rigid exterior. She did, however, love to banter with him. In that area, she considered him something of an equal.

"I need to get home," Richard finally said after several moment's silence. "Do you need me to pick up anything on the way in tomorrow?" he asked Caroline, his back still to the room, but it was Annie who answered.

"A personality?"

He shook his head, exasperated, and reached for the knob. "Call me if you need anything," he snipped, though he wasn't angry with Caroline at all.

"Thank you, Richard," Caroline called out to him, hoping to diffuse his sour mood a little, but the door slammed shut before the last syllable left her mouth.

"Annie," Caroline part whined, part scolded, "Please stop pissing him off all the time! You're making it harder on **me**!"

"Harder for you to do **what**?" Annie asked.

"Harder for me to reach him!" she snapped. "Every time I make an inch headway, you set me back **three** with your jabs at him!"

Annie saw the tears welling in her friend's eyes and dropped hers to the floor guiltily. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I won't pick on him anymore."

"Thank you, Annie--"

"Over **this**!" Annie interrupted. "His tight ass and Addam's Family wardrobe are still fair game!"

A slight smile tugged at Caroline's lips as she wiped the fresh tears from off her cheeks. "Well, it's a start."

**XXX**

--The bags were heavy, but Richard struggled with them without complaint. It wasn't like he could expect Caroline to carry them.

"I think I got everything," Caroline prattled as she approached the front door to her loft.

"And more," Richard added, following behind her, wiggling his fingers in an attempt to get circulation to them. The bags he was carrying dug uncomfortably into the flesh of his palms.

"Do you think Del or Charlie suspect anything?" she asked, keying into her apartment.

"No clue," he answered flatly; he just wanted to get the bags into the kitchen so he could start surveying the damage to his hands and ten digits.

"The nausea has finally gone away, I think." Caroline continued jumping from one subject to the next, trying to land on one that would get her more than a two or three word response.

"I've noticed," he muttered, sucking air through his teeth a second later when he was finally allowed to unload his burden.

"I'm sorry about that," Caroline apologized, stepping to within inches of him and taking his hands in hers. Palms up, she looked over his injuries, rubbing her hands vigorously over his to stimulate blood flow.

"I said I would help you carry," she reminded, unaware of his pained expression.

The pain in his eyes, however, wasn't from the damage carrying the heavy grocery bags had caused. His guard up suddenly, he yanked his hands out of Caroline's grasp. "They were too heavy for you to carry!" he shot back, flustered. "You bought out the stupid store!"

Taken aback, she asked softly, "Are you mad at me over something?"

Silently, he cursed himself for the tone he'd used towards her. "No," he said gently.

"Are you upset about doing this tonight?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I understand why you want me here."

"If you're not," Caroline explained again, "It will seem weird to them."

"I said I understand!" he snipped back, his tone edging irritation again.

A deep sigh escaped as she turned away from him, refusing to let him see her cry yet again. Crying had become common place for her lately. Always an emotional person, the pregnancy just made it ten times worse. It was fairly common, she was told. Her doctor assured her it was normal, even Richard told her that, but it offered shallow consolation in times like this.

Richard saw crying as a form of weakness. At least, she assumed he did, based on his reaction to her when she did it. With as often as she burst into tears, he must think her the weakest person on the planet.

"Why are you crying **now**?" he asked, sounding a lot more upset than he'd wanted to.

"I just wish you'd tell me why you're so angry with me!" she shot back, turning on her heel to face him. Her cheeks were wet from the tears that had fallen. "What did I do?"

He couldn't tell her the truth. They'd come to an agreement. An iron-clad one. How was he supposed to know he'd change his mind? If he told her of his change in heart, it could ruin everything. Create a rift in their friendship that might not ever be mended. That would be torture enough, but add to that, that he might not ever see his baby. He couldn't risk it. He **wouldn't** risk it.

"I'm not angry with you," he finally spoke, the silence dragging on longer than it should have. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Her expression softened. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he apologized. "I'm sorry for making this night harder on you."

"That's ok," she forgave him easily. "I'm sorry you have to be there, even though you don't want to be," she added. "Everyone knows how much I care for you. If you're not here to share in my big announcement, they'll wonder why. It'll raise too many questions."

"I know," he agreed, then cleared his throat nervously. "Whom will you say is the father?" he asked, regretting having done so the second the words left his mouth.

"A one night stand. I'll make up a name," she added, moving to unload the temporarily forgotten about bags. "Steve, maybe. Common enough name."

Richard literally felt his insides constrict. The thought of another man touching her now made him physically sick. "If you can handle this," he said as he gestured to the shopping bags, "I'm going to excuse myself for a moment." He then gestured to the bathroom, not waiting for her response before turning and heading towards it.

He needed time to regroup, his emotions raw. He stepped inside, then leaned against the door to shut it, blindly reaching for the knob to lock it. From his position, he could see his reflection in the mirror that hung just above the bathroom sink, and he winced at it.

His eyes were beginning to redden, and he watched helplessly as one lone tear slid down his face. "I'm dying," he whispered, ignoring the wet streak that seemed to burn his flesh.

--"Hey, is that the stuff for the party?" Annie asked cheerfully as she let herself into the apartment, like always.

"Yep!" Caroline chirped, her latest crying jag over for the moment. "And some healthy foods for me to eat. Now that I got my appetite back and all."

Annie began to examine the items as Caroline removed each from the bags, her expression growing more and more disgusted with each new revealed product. "Health food!" she groaned. "Gross! Why not just eat cardboard!"

Continuing her task, Caroline muttered, "Richard's idea. Said it was better for the baby."

"Speaking of Daddy No-bucks, where is he anyway?"

"Bathroom," Caroline replied, adding, "And don't start in with him. He's on edge today."

"When is he **not**?" she scoffed.

As if on cue, Richard exited the bathroom, immediately heading for the desk. When Annie's eyes locked with his, his ears grew red with embarrassment, forcing him to look away.

She noticed instantly. He'd been crying. She glanced over at Caroline, who continued putting food away, oblivious, then she turned back to Richard. It was obvious to her that he was avoiding eye contact, which just furthered her suspicions.

"Poindexter," she announced suddenly, "I need you for a minute." He seemed to be questioning her motives as he glanced up at her.

"Why?" he asked cautiously, stealing a peek at Caroline, who was still too preoccupied to notice anything was amiss.

"I have a book report due on Monday and I need your help with the big words," she shot back sarcastically. "Don't worry about it! Just get your ass over here! Be right back, hun," she added, directing the kinder words at Caroline, then started for her apartment across the hall.

He knew she was up to something, but against better judgment, or maybe it was better judgment telling him to, he followed Annie out the door.

After dragging Richard into her apartment and slamming the door, she spun to face him, immediately asking, "Why were you crying?"

There was that directness he was so **not** fond of. He considered ignoring the question and leaving, but she asked the question again, this time, with something that resembled compassion.

"Richard, why were you crying?"

Richard? She never called him Richard.

"Who says I was?" he asked, avoiding her question by asking one of his own.

"I can tell. It's a gift," she added proudly, then looked back at him pointedly, awaiting his response.

"I was in pain," he said, with what he hoped was a casual sounding tone. "Caroline had me carrying half the grocery store home in these little plastic bags, with handles like knives--"

"Richard," she interrupted, "Cut the bullshit, k? I wasn't born yesterday."

"What do you want from me?" he sighed, defeated.

"The truth," she said at once.

His whole body slumped before he moved to take a seat on her sofa. "Caroline is having my baby," he finally choked out. No tears fell, but he felt the familiar sting at the back of his eyes.

"Yeah," she said simply as an encouragement for him to continue, joining him.

"I'm confused," he told her. "There's a line here, I'm not sure how to walk. Trying to stay detached, but being there for her as a friend-- it's not as easy as I thought it would be."

"Who says you have to stay detached?" she asked him; her tone was more respectful than he had ever heard it. "It's ok to enjoy this with her. She wants you to."

"She wants to tell everyone at the party tonight that she got pregnant by some, one night stand."

"Only because you said from the beginning that you didn't want anyone knowing **you** were the father! If you tell her you want recognition, she will give it to you. Trust me."

"It's not as simple as that," he muttered, sliding his glasses off his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, willing the tears that threatened to come away.

"Why not?" she asked, wondering if this was the moment where he would finally admit out loud, his feelings for Caroline.

"You ask too much of me," he said, his tone returning to distant. "I can't confide in you. I can't trust you."

Annie sighed. "You **can** but you don't, and that's ok. I haven't given you much reason to. You know," she told him, "I only mess with you cause I like you. If I didn't, I wouldn't bother." He scoffed and shot her a sideways glance. "I would like to help you," she added seriously, "If I can."

"Prove it," he announced abruptly, and she cocked an eyebrow in response.

"How?" she asked, curious.

"Stop teasing me about the pregnancy in front of Caroline."

She stared back thoughtfully for a moment, then asked, "But I can still tease you about that haircut, right?"

The smile that crossed his lips was involuntary. "If you must," he answered flatly.

As if to imply that she was giving it thought, she tapped her finger to her chin for a second or two, her eyes to the ceiling as if consulting the stains that reside there.

"Deal!" she announced with a laugh, forcing her hand in his to shake on it.

Reluctantly, he shook back, not that he had much choice. She was pretty much forcing the gesture without his participation.

Suddenly, without warning, he jerked his hand away, his eyes wide. "And do **not** tell Caroline about this conversation!" he demanded, slight panic to his voice.

She scoffed. "I can keep a secret!" When he scowled back at her, she added, "Just cause I don't always doesn't mean I can't!"

**TBC**

Please review!

MTLBYAKY


	3. Chapter 3

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 3**

XXX

--Caroline stood up in front of her friends, all of which were dispersed around the apartment and engaged in various conversations as they nibbled off plates of food they held.

"I'm sure you've wondered why I've thrown this little party," Caroline started, speaking loudly to get everyone's attention. "Well," she added, sounding scattered, "Maybe not **all** of you have wondered. But, some of you might have, and I **do** have a reason for asking you all here tonight-"

Richard rolled her eyes as she babbled.

"Anyway," she continued, looking into the faces of her friends, "I have an announcement to make."

"You're a man trapped in a woman's body!" Charlie exclaimed. A simple-minded man, he was always coming up with odd statements, so the group as a whole, pretty much ignored him.

"No, Charlie," Caroline answered with patience. "It's not that."

Richard briefly thought to himself that if the child she carried were to be born with some kind of disability, she would certainly be more than capable of handling it. But as soon as the thought hit him, he forced it from his mind. The idea that the baby would be anything but perfect was incomprehensible.

"Lately, I've been feeling like something has been missing from my life," she explained to the room filled with confused and curious expressions. "And finally, I figured out what it was. So, I did something about it."

It felt like every eye in the apartment would actually bore into her brain, they stared so intently.

"Everyone," she announced after taking a deep cleansing breath, "I'm pregnant."

Gasps could be heard as everyone looked around at each other in shock, the only ones not responsible for the commotion being Annie and Richard, and of course, Caroline.

"Who's the father?" Del asked finally, and all attention was back on Caroline in an instant.

She had rehearsed what to say. But when the moment came, she found herself blurting out something closer to the truth.

"A friend," she answered softly, only daring to glance at Richard through her peripheral vision. "He didn't want to be here tonight," she spoke the half truth; Richard was there, but she knew he didn't want to be. Especially now that she had deviated from the original plan. "He thought it would be awkward, to be here," she added when the room still remained silent.

"What friend?" Vicky asked, holding her own very young child in her arms. The child Caroline and Richard had actually helped deliver.

"He doesn't want people to know who he is," Caroline replied. "He only donated his sperm to help me out. He doesn't want to be a father."

Annie could see Richard, out of the corner of her eye, shifting and staring intently at his own shoelaces, obviously uncomfortable.

"Donated sperm?" Del asked. "So, he didn't sleep with you?"

Richard felt his face flush, and he quickly turned away under the guise that he was looking for a refill on his coffee.

"No," Caroline explained, looking embarrassed by Del's very direct and personal question. "It was done through in-vitro."

The silence in the room that followed was deafening.

"This is a good thing, guys," Caroline assured them, breaking through the awkwardness. "I'm happy about this! I should be," she added with a slight chuckle, "It cost a small fortune!"

The tension then started subsiding, making way for hugs and congratulations.

"You guys knew about this," Del asked Annie and Richard, "Didn't you?"

"We did," Annie admitted. "I went with her," she elaborated, "And Richie here caught on when Caroline was puking for eight weeks straight."

Del seemed satisfied with her answer and explanation, so he returned his attention to Caroline, completely missing the look of gratitude Richard shot stealthily in Annie's direction.

"Thank you," Richard whispered as Annie inched up beside him, leaning against the kitchen counter as he was.

"Hey, who loves 'ya, baby?" she whispered back, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"Let's not get crazy, here," he quipped, a smirk showing itself slightly. "This doesn't even **begin** to erase all the crap you've given me over that letter I wrote."

She laughed softly, murmuring, "Yeah, good times."

**XXX**

--The three occupied the room in virtual silence, comfortable in each other's presence. As Caroline and Richard worked at the desk, Annie lounged on the couch, flipping almost absently through the day's newspaper.

"Hey," Caroline broke through the quiet, "You wanna go with me to my ultrasound appointment, Annie?"

"Sure," Annie agreed easily. "When? What's it for?"

"What's it for?" Caroline repeated, finally looking away from her work and at her best friend. "Just a routine, kind of thing. Why?"

Annie shrugged. "Just thought, maybe, it was to find out the sex of the baby."

"Oh," Caroline muttered, her mind drifting away in thought. "When can they even determine that?"

"Sixteen to eighteen weeks," Richard interjected, then glanced briefly at Annie, almost challenging her to break the promise she had made to him.

Annie, having caught this, only smiled slightly, offering a softly spoken, "Good to know."

"I think it might be too soon," Caroline supposed, oblivious to the subtle looks being exchanged between her friends.

"You're fifteen weeks tomorrow," Richard offered, his attention back on the panel in front of him.

Annie suppressed a grin. "And when's the appointment?" she asked Caroline.

"Next Thursday," Caroline answered.

"So, a day before you turn sixteen weeks?" she asked, her tone indicating that her next statement was obvious. "What's one day! Maybe they can tell after all!"

"Maybe," Caroline replied distantly, in thought.

"Maybe she doesn't want to know," Richard said to his work, never moving off task.

"Why wouldn't she want to know?" Annie asked, amazed. "**I** would want to know!"

"Caroline is not you," Richard pointed out flatly.

"You wouldn't want to know?" Caroline then asked Richard, carefully. Some subjects she broached with him, he didn't seem to have issue with. Others, he seemed to just, shut down. Unsure of how he might respond to any given topic, she usually found herself treading lightly, as the saying goes, trying to gauge his potential reaction.

"That's not my decision," he stated simply, giving away nothing in tone or words.

"Ok, but, do **you** want to know-?" She caught herself quickly, before she fully asked the question, realizing the context of the sentence. "I mean, if it **was** your decision," she corrected, "Would you want to know?"

She was trying to kill him, he decided. He couldn't successfully detach when she kept pulling him in. "Maybe," he said with closed eyes. "I don't know."

Annie saw his inner struggle like it was a tangible object in the room. She would help, in her own special way, she decided. "What would **you** want, Richie?" she asked, wording the question hypothetically. "Boy or girl?"

If he could shoot daggers from his eyes, she would've been dead right then and there. Caroline perked to hear his answer.

"Doesn't matter what I want," he snipped, then promptly stormed off to the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Testy," Annie muttered, returning her attention to the newspaper still in her hands.

Caroline stared in the general direction of the bathroom, deep in thought. He said he could do this without it affecting our friendship, she mused. But it was. The pain was so bad, she didn't know which was worse, losing him as a friend, or witnessing his irritation for her each day.

"You ok?" Annie asked, noticing the sad, far-off look in Caroline's eyes.

"He hates me," Caroline whispered.

"Trust me," Annie assured her, "He doesn't."

"I think he's starting to regret doing this," Caroline confided in her friend. "I want to ask him, but any time I ask him anything even remotely **like** that, he just says he's fine with it, which I don't think he is."

When they heard the bathroom door open, the conversation dropped from the tense air instantly. Richard retook his seat and began working again, appearing unaffected by the previous topic.

"Oh, shoot!" Annie exclaimed suddenly, "I just remembered! I have a mandatory meeting over at the theater next Thursday! Apparently, top brass thinks we need a feline refresher course."

Annie could see the disappointment cross Caroline's face. But more importantly, she could see Richard eyeing her warily. She cracked a smile at him before suggesting, "Take Richie! He wouldn't mind," she added, then asked him, "Would you?"

What she was doing was blatantly obvious to him, but with Caroline now staring at him hopefully, there was no way to reprimand her.

"I can take you," he answered plainly, shooting Annie a brief glare before returning his eyes to the panel he had yet to finish, due to all the distractions. "Wouldn't want Annie to miss that all-important meeting about how only **real** cats get nine lives."

The implication was clear, and Annie chuckled softly before turning into a cough to cover.

"Gotta go," she groaned, her voice sounding scratchy. "It's time for my cough medicine."

Caroline looked confused, and back to Richard. "Is she sick?"

"In the head," he muttered dryly. "Don't worry," he added, "It's not contagious."

**XXX**

--The waiting room at Caroline's Ob/Gyn's office was even more obnoxious than the one at the fertility clinic, in Richard's opinion. Every twelve inches along the wall was some picture or painting, depicting newborn babies, children at various ages of growth, and happy families consisting of husbands and wives with children playing and laughing in the foreground.

They mocked him, reminding him of what he didn't and could never have. His stress level was such that he could literally hear his blood pumping and his heart pounding in his ears. The expression on his face was that of pain, and it didn't go unnoticed.

"Another headache?" Caroline asked, concerned, and he nodded simply in response. "You seem to be getting them a lot lately," she said, showing just how close she had been paying attention. "Maybe you should see a doctor."

"I don't need to see a doctor, Caroline," he muttered. "I know why I've been getting them."

"Why?" she immediately inquired, turning slightly in her seat to better face him.

"Stress," he told her, avoiding her stare.

"Stress," she asked worriedly, "Because of me?"

"No," he lied.

There was no way of knowing where the courage suddenly had come from, but without pausing to analyze it, Caroline found herself asking, "You regret doing this now, don't you?"

"No," he returned instantly. "I don't regret helping you, and I will **never** regret it. Stop dwelling on that, Caroline," he stated firmly. "Stress isn't good for you **or** the baby."

Sighing, frustrated, she said to him, "I just wish you'd talk to me."

"I talk to you every day," he reminded shortly, knowing full well what she meant, but hoping to avoid the subject.

"I mean about **this**," she clarified. "About the pregnancy."

"We talk about the pregnancy every day," he countered, throwing up another hurdle for her to jump.

"Yeah," she muttered, unwilling to be deterred, "But not about how **you're** feeling."

"What I'm feeling is irrelevant," he stated with a detached sense of calm. "This isn't **my** pregnancy," he added. "It's **yours**."

"Technically," she conceded, "But, you helped."

"If I was just some sperm donor from a registry, my feelings wouldn't matter. You just happen to know me."

"Yes," she told him, "I **do** happen to know you. You **happen** to be my friend!"

"And I've been there for you in that capacity, haven't I?" he asked her.

"You have," she admitted. "But, sometimes, it seems, begrudgingly."

He sighed, suddenly asking a question that seemed to come from nowhere. "Why did you use my sperm?"

Confused by the abrupt, slight change is subjects, she answered hesitantly, "Cause, like you said, the DNA is important."

"So," he pressed further, "Why not use Del? Or Charlie?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Cause, the DNA is important."

In spite of the anxiety he was feeling, he cracked a smile. The significance of her statement wasn't lost on him, either.

The newly learned information seemed to clear his headache at once. She didn't use his sperm out of desperation, or to save thousands of dollars. She used it because she actually thought his sperm would help create a decent child.

"Wow," he whispered, seeming to get serious for a moment, only to add humorously, "I hope my genes don't disappoint."

She laughed again, then did something unexpected. Something that surprised them both. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sure they won't," she said with a contented sigh, at peace in the wake of the conversation they'd just had.

Partly because he didn't want to upset her, partly because he was enjoying the closeness, he opted not to pull away. Instead, he gathered his courage and wrapped his arm around her, leaning his head against hers.

Caroline's heart leapt when she felt Richard's arms slip around her. She wasn't sure what part of the conversation had turned things around for them, she just blindly accepted with gratitude that it had.

"Caroline Duffy?" the nurse called out, and Caroline felt an odd sense of disappointment over having to leave the cozy moment she was sharing with Richard behind.

**X**

--The exam room was set up in typical fashion, looking very much like any other patient room at any other doctor's office, except for the large poster on the back of the door that showed every detail of a woman's reproductive system.

Cabinets and drawers lined two of the walls, a sink situated in the corner where they met. An exam table sat just off the center of the room, with a cart holding a large machine to the side of it.

The ultrasound machine, he guessed, making mental notes of mundane things to help keep his mind occupied, and from exploding.

He was about to see his unborn baby, and the idea of it frightened and thrilled him, all at the same time. Caroline was nervous too, he surmised; the tension radiated from her hand to his as their fingers sat entwined.

"Nervous?" he asked, his throat constricting and dry.

"Excited," she replied, unaware of how tightly she was gripping his hand.

"I'm nervous," he admitted, then immediately cursed his loose tongue. He had to learn to guard against making such statements, if he was ever going to get through the pregnancy without blowing it and leaking his feelings for her.

Quickly, he covered. "I'm nervous that I will never be able to paint again, after I lose my hand due to lack of circulation. You know," he added lightly, "My hand still hasn't fully recovered from the shopping trip disaster."

Suddenly realizing what he was implying, she eased her hand open and pulled it away. "Sorry, Richard."

"Caroline," he sighed, "You can hold my hand if you want to. Just, not so hard?"

She smiled appreciatively as he held his hand out for her to take once again, which she did, but gently.

"So, how are we doing today?" the chipper ultrasound tech asked, announcing her presence as she entered the room. To stop himself from returning a smart-ass remark, Richard grit his teeth.

"Ok," Caroline answered, hiding a smile when she sensed Richard's struggle to restrain his sarcastic side.

"Hmmm," the tech hummed as she glanced through Caroline's chart. "Sixteen weeks tomorrow. If we can determine gender, do you want to know what it is?"

Caroline looked up at Richard, silently asking his opinion.

"It's up to you," he told her; there wasn't the slightest hint of irritation to his tone.

"I want to know what **you** think," she near whispered. "I value your opinion."

Quickly weighing the pros and cons, knowing Caroline and the tech were both awaiting his answer, he leaned in, asking sotto, "Do **you** want to know?" She smiled sheepishly as she nodded. "Knowing might be good," he said as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze, offering her the reassurances she was silently requesting.

"Ok," the tech chirped as she started the machine up, "Let's get this show on the road!"

The machine roared to life with a myriad of beeps and foreign noises as the tech asked Caroline to pull her pants down past her stomach, to the edge of her pubic hair line, and her blouse up 'just enough'. Richard blushed and turned away as she did, shifting uncomfortably.

The gel the tech squirted onto her abdomen was cold initially, but warmed up quickly as she moved the ultrasound wand across to spread it. The image instantly jumped onto the computer-like screen.

"And there's your baby," the tech said with a congratulatory smile. "Are you the daddy?" she then asked Richard, her attention remaining on the fetus in utero.

"Yes," Caroline answered, surprising him; she returned the gesture when she felt him squeeze her hand.

"Congratulations, Mommy, Daddy, you're having a healthy baby boy."

**X**

--The forced childlike high-pitched voice caused Richard to wince with every new sentence. He was sure that at any moment, blood would start pouring out of his ears.

"And here's his itty bitty arms," Caroline announced, pointing at the sonogram picture with each body part she named off. "And here's his itty bitty legs! And here's his itty bitty penis!"

Annie couldn't help but smile at her friend's enthusiasm. "Everything a boy needs to live a successful life," she quipped, giving Caroline a half hug before turning her malicious attentions over to Richard. "So, Richie, a boy! Mazel Tov!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Ok, let's try this again," he snipped, annoyed, then held his pen up as he added, "Sperm donor."

"Yeah, yeah," Annie scoffed, then focused back on Caroline. "Have any names picked out yet?"

"Well, I always liked the name Phinneas," she answered, unaware of the horrified look that leapt across Richard's face, "But, you know, kids can be cruel. And I don't want to be the one responsible for saddling him with a name that gets him beat up every day in the school yard."

Annie suppressed a laugh when she saw Richard's expression jump from shock and horror, then back to disinterested.

"I was actually thinking about going and picking up a baby naming book," Caroline said as she placed her child's first picture on the counter.

Annie immediately pounced on that idea. "Excellent!" she exclaimed with an approving nod. "Let's go grab brunch, buy a baby naming book, and then go shopping for itty bitty baby clothes!" By the end of her suggestion, she was standing by the door, Caroline's purse in her hand. "Unless there's some rule about not buying clothes at sixteen weeks." She directed the almost question at Richard, whose only response was to shake his head briefly.

"Good! Then it's settled!" Annie exclaimed, shaking Caroline's purse as an encouragement for her to join her.

"By the way," Caroline asked, plucking her purse from Annie's possession and slipping it onto her shoulder, "Why **are** you supposed to wait till **after** three months to go clothes shopping?"

Without looking up, Richard informed solemnly, "The first three months is when you're most likely to have a miscarriage, if you were going to."

Caroline considered his words carefully, a sad expression crossing her face, until Annie chimed in seconds later.

"Ok, enough of that! Sadness and shopping don't mix!" She linked her arm with Caroline's and pulled her towards the door. "Richie, you want us to pick you up anything while we're out?" Annie asked, and he looked up at her suspiciously. "Like, say, a personality?"

She waited a moment for a retort, but upon receiving none, she rolled her eyes and walked out the door, yanking it shut as she went.

The elevator arrived with a ding, and Richard strained to hear as the voices on the other side of the door grew faint, then disappeared.

He turned in his swivel chair, peeking out the window discreetly, watching as the two women walked out of the building, then down the street and around the corner. Confident that they were gone for the afternoon, he hopped off his seat and headed for the bar, where the sonogram picture still sat.

In awe, he lightly traced the image of his son, smiling as he remembered seeing his movements. Seeing and hearing his little heartbeat. Watching him swim about and do summersaults without concern.

The peaceful father/son moment was shattered minutes later, however, when Charlie came roller-skating through the door. Richard instantly dropped the picture back on the bar with the intrusion.

"Hey, Richard," Charlie greeted casually. "I'm here to pick up those sketches for Del."

With a nod, Richard stepped over to the desk and produced instantly, a large manila envelope.

"What's this?" Charlie asked as he plucked the picture Richard had just been looking at off the counter.

Richard had to force himself not to jump and snatch the picture away from him. "Don't muck that up, Charlie," Richard demanded. "That's Caroline's sonogram picture of the baby."

"Oh," Charlie said simply, putting it back where he found it before adding, "He has your eyes."

Unceremoniously, Charlie snatched the envelope away from Richard and headed for the door.

"Charlie. Charlie, wait. Wait!" Richard yelled to get his attention, finally receiving it when he spun around in the hall and poked his head back into the apartment.

"Yeah?"

"Why would you say that?" Richard asked him, trying not to sound anxious. "Why would you say he has my eyes?"

"Cause he **does**," Charlie answered, unperturbed.

"No, Charlie," Richard tried again to reason with the unreasonable, "Why do you think he's **my** child? Did Caroline tell you that?"

"No," Charlie said, then added, "I just figured it out."

Curious, Richard asked, "How?"

"Well," Charlie began his long explanation, "At the party, you were acting weird. At first, I thought it was cause you were bored, but then, when Caroline told us she was pregnant, you spent the entire time staring at your shoes. I know your shoes aren't that interesting, so I figured there had to be another reason for it. Then, I remembered, the only guy friends Caroline has is me, Del, and **you**. Since Del isn't the dad and **I'm** not the dad, that leaves **you**."

As soon as he finished, he skated onto the waiting elevator.

"Charlie, wait," Richard asked of him, physically standing in the way of the elevator doors so they couldn't close. "Have you said anything to anyone about this?"

"Why would I?" Charlie asked. "It's not **my** kid."

"Good," Richard breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

"Why?" Charlie asked, his brow quirked.

"Caroline doesn't want anyone else to know," Richard explained, his patience running thin.

"Oh, don't worry," Charlie assured him, "No one knows."

"Good. Thank you, Charlie," Richard muttered, moving so the doors could close and Charlie could leave.

"No one, except you, me, Caroline, Annie, and Del."

Richard lunged for the door to stop it closing, but he wasn't fast enough. "Charlie! Del knows?! Charlie!" He yelled at the door, and pushed the call button in the hope that it would call the elevator back, with Charlie still in it, but it didn't.

"Shit!" he cursed, running for the stairs. He ran out of the building, out onto the street, hoping to catch him, but with as skilled as he was on rollerblades, he was down the street and around the corner before Richard could even call his name.

Struggling to catch his breath, Richard gasped, "So much for keeping it a secret."

**TBC**

Author's note:

Little wave to my friend, Caroline! Hiya! Glad you're liking this so far! Can't wait to read yours!

Please review!

MTLBYAKY


	4. Chapter 4

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 4**

**XXX **

--Caroline's attention was clearly divided. Remo had shown slight concern when her meal sat virtually untouched, but she appeased him easily by taking a healthy bite of her pasta and forcing a smile of enjoyment.

Annie's attempts at conversation was met with a little more than complete disinterest, but even with as obvious as her inattentiveness was, whenever Annie would ask her what was wrong, she denied anything being.

The brunch began, continued, and ended this way, until finally, when the check came, Annie decided she'd had enough.

"Ok, Caroline, out with it! Something is wrong, and we're not leaving till you tell me what it is!"

"It's nothing," Caroline insisted with a sigh. "It's just- I just wish I knew the name of that baby book Richard's been reading," she admitted at last, fishing through her purse for her wallet. "It seems to have some really good advice in it."

"Ask him," Annie suggested, peeking at the total of the meal she and Caroline had just finished consuming, not that she intended to pay, or even help to pay, for that matter.

Caroline shook her head. "He won't tell me," she guessed. "He won't even admit to me that he has one," she added, slipping payment and tip into the small black folder that contained her bill.

"Ok, well, do you still have his apartment key?" Annie asked, her eyebrow arched the only hint that she was planning something devious.

Caroline eyed her friend for a brief moment, before finally answering in a long drawl, "Yes. Why?"

"Let's just go over there and find it then." Annie smirked when Caroline's expression registered shock and disapproval.

"We can't do that, Annie," she reprimanded her. "It's an invasion of his privacy!"

Annie scoffed. "He'll never know! And what he doesn't know, won't hurt him. C'mon," she added, pushing out from the table and standing. "We'll hit his place, then the mall."

"I really don't like this idea, Annie," Caroline complained, reluctantly following her friend towards the door.

"Of course **you** don't, Caroline," she teased. "You're a goody-goody!

**X**

--The long hike up was instantly tiring for Caroline, Richard's building having no elevators and his apartment being located on the third floor. Out of breath, she eyed the man passed out on the ground before carefully stepping past him and up to apartment number six.

Slipping the key in and unlocking the door, she pushed it open, but remained leery about entering.

"Get in here," Annie huffed, already inside. Apparently, she had no such qualms about invading the man's space. "**Before** the crack-head in the hall wakes up and starts pestering us for spare change," she added, pulling Caroline inside and quickly shutting and locking the door.

"Where does he keep his books?" Annie then asked, scanning the room. "What a dump!"

"I don't know," Caroline answered, hugging herself against the feeling of unease she was experiencing. "I've only been here a handful of times."

"Ok, then, you check over **there**," she suggested, pointing towards the kitchenette, "And I'll check over **here**," she added, pointing to what she thought was a closet.

As soon as she opened the doors, however, she realized it wasn't a closet at all. Instead of a clothes rack and shelves, she was met with steel bars and springs.

"What is this?" she asked Caroline, gesturing to what she had just discovered with a hooked thumb in its direction.

"It's a Murphy bed," Caroline answered. "Just give that top bar there a tug."

Wasting no time, Annie did as instructed, causing the bed to fall away from the wall and into the room, landing with a resounding thud.

"Shut up in there!" a neighbor yelled, and Annie rolled her eyes in response.

"Bite me!" she yelled back, then immediately began to dissect the bed sheets. It took seconds to find it. "Got it," she announced, lifting it from under his pillow, holding it up for Caroline to see.

Caroline knew he had been reading a book on pregnancy, but faced with the proof of it brought tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat.

"He really does want to be a part of this, doesn't he?" she asked Annie, who nodded sympathetically in response.

"Of course he does, sweetie," she replied, her tone gently consoling, her thumb flipping pages abstractedly.

Then something caught their attention. Upon closer inspection, they noticed several of the pages had been dog-eared, and in several locations throughout more than half the book, certain sections of text had been highlighted.

"If he wants to be involved, why doesn't he just tell me," Caroline asked, tears beginning to brim in her eyes.

"He's scared," Annie explained. "He thinks **you** want to stick to the original arrangement. He doesn't want to upset you by asking for more."

"I should talk to him," Caroline decided, speaking softly and more to herself than to her friend.

"No," Annie advised abruptly, knowing if Caroline brought the subject up, Richard would realize instantly that Annie had blabbed his feelings on the matter after promising she wouldn't.

"Wait for **him **to talk to **you**," Annie continued when Caroline looked back at her incredulously. "He'll just duck and cover, if you bring it up first."

"Ok." Caroline took her friend's words at face value, having not an inkling that anything was amiss or being omitted, and agreed with a sigh. "Put the book back, and the bed back in the wall, and let's get out of here."

**XXX**

--Richard had long been out of things to work on, but still he stayed. He wanted to make sure Caroline got home safe, and to see her one more time before the start of the weekend.

He hated the weekends. Sure, there were times he would see her on Saturday. Or Sunday. Or **both**, but, there were no guarantees. Not like during the week. He hated the uncertainty of that.

Then suddenly, his mind went back to his earlier conversation with Charlie. For some unknown reason, Del and Charlie had kept their knowledge of Richard's involvement in Caroline's pregnancy a secret. Why? And should he tell Caroline? Before he could reason out an answer, any further thoughts on the issue ended with the sound of the front door flying open.

Caroline came spilling into the apartment, loaded down with shopping bags of all sizes and colors, an equally burdened Annie just steps behind her. Seeing the struggle, he leapt to his feet and to their aid.

"How many stores did you buy out today?" he asked, flatly sarcastic; he moved the bags Caroline had dropped aside so she could step through, then off-loaded several from Annie's person.

"A dozen, give or take," Caroline quipped, her good mood obvious.

"You do realize you only have one child inside you, right?" he asked jokingly. "And that there is only 365 days in a year?"

"Shut up," Caroline joked back. "It's not **all** clothes!"

"Uh huh," he quipped, and upon picking up one of the bags and noticing its weight, added, "Oh, good, you bought our son his first anvil."

The air in the room grew thick instantly. He'd said something he hadn't meant to say, and was mentally, and possibly even literally, preparing to bolt.

Sensing all this, Caroline quickly spoke up, hoping to ease the anxious moment. Forcing a laugh, she announced, "No, just a ton of bricks."

Annie, realizing what Caroline was attempting to do, added, "They were on sale!"

The tension seemed to grow thinner as his reference to the child being **his** was completely glossed over.

It worked, Caroline marveled. She made a mental note, to remember that for possible later use.

"Oh!" Caroline suddenly remembered, "I got you something! Sit down a sec."

"Caroline," he half whined, "I don't want-"

"Shut up," Caroline cut him off playfully. "I'm allowed to buy you a gift I want to! Now, sit down and prepare to accept it graciously!"

Richard rolled his eyes as he took a seat on the sofa, watching her search through the countless items each bag contained.

"You **will** be able to find it today, right?" he asked, receiving a smirk and a half glare in response.

Annie grinned inwardly at the interplay between the two of them, then joined Caroline on the hunt, in the interest of moving things along.

"Got it," Caroline announced, pulling a smaller bag out of the larger one she had been digging in. "It's just a little something," she prefaced before handing it to him, "So don't get weird on me."

A slight smile played on his lips as he accepted the bag, eyeing her for a moment before opening it. Pulling the object out, he held it in his hand, contemplating his next words carefully.

"A beeper?" he asked. "So, I'm a pimp now?"

Annie laughed. "At least she didn't get you the mirrored denim hat to go with it!"

He glanced at Annie before training his eyes back on Caroline, silently requesting an explanation.

"With **this**," she explained, "I can reach you no matter where you are, when I go into labor."

He looked down at the beeper still perched in the palm of his hand, then back up again. "You want me there?" he asked curiously.

The sweetest smile took over, her voice matching the expression. "I want you in the room with me."

**XXX**

--Caroline painfully showed off each little outfit she had purchased, and the only thing keeping Richard in his seat was that he could use the annoying fashion show as an excuse to stay in Caroline's presence a little longer.

When it was finally over, Richard stood to stretch his legs, and Annie did as well, before heading for the bags by the door.

"Richie, could you give me a hand with these, please?"

Something told him she didn't really need his help, but he agreed evenly anyway, grabbing the bags she pointed at and following her across the hall.

Unceremoniously, he dropped them to the floor, then immediately turned to leave.

"What's your hurry?" she asked him, to which he spun back around to face her, trying to gauge something within her demeanor. "We haven't had a chance to talk in a while, eh, Richard?"

She used his real name. It was becoming something of a code with her, that when she did that, she was offering to lend him her ear.

He wasted no time jumping in. "Is it my imagination, or is Caroline trying to include me more in this?"

"It's not your imagination," she told him with a ghost of a smile.

"You haven't been talking with her about the conversation we had, have you?" he asked pointedly, just shy of accusing.

"No," she lied, "But she's been talking to me about stuff."

"What stuff?" he asked, trying not to sound as interested as he was.

"She wants you to be involved in this, Richard, she just doesn't want to come straight out and say something, because she's unsure how you'll react."

"Did she tell you that?" he asked, showing his slight surprise when Annie nodded in response. "When we first agreed to all this, she said she only wanted a sperm donor, not a father for the baby."

"When you guys first cooked all this up, **you** said that's what you wanted too."

"But, that was before I-" He stopped abruptly, his voice cracking just barely, but enough for Annie to catch it.

"Exactly!" she exclaimed. "Things change! It did for you and it did for her, too!"

"I don't know how to deal with this," he admitted, his tone indicating a deep emotional struggle. "I don't know how to be a father."

"No man does, till he actually becomes one," she told him with all seriousness. "But that aside," she added, "You want to be, don't you?"

He nodded only slightly. "More than anything."

"Tell her!" she snipped advisedly. "Grow a spine and tell her!"

"I can't," he returned solemnly. "Not yet, anyway."

"Not yet?" she questioned, her eyes narrowing on him. "Then, when?"

"I don't know!" he shot back, now sounding more irritated than anything. "I'm confused! I'm--"

"Scared," Annie interrupted his rant, her tone softly considerate.

"And pathetic," he added. "I know."

"I wasn't going to say that," she assured him.

"**I** said it," he muttered, shaking his head in disgust with himself. "I just- I can't say anything, until I get some things worked out in my head first." With his final words of the sentence, came an emotional distance from him.

Meaningful conversation time was over, Annie realized, but she had one more thing to say on the matter. "If you love her," she said, and she knew he did, "Then you owe it to her to be honest. She thinks you hate her," she added. "Resent her, or at the very least, your decision to help her. You need to **at least** set **that much** straight."

He considered her words carefully, before eventually nodding. "Don't come over for a while, ok?"

"You got it, Richie," she said, giving him a light-hearted pat on the back. "Good luck!"

**X**

--Caroline was humming softly as she sorted the newly purchased items sprawled out on the coffee table, and to Richard, it was both the sweetest and the most gut-wrenching sound in the world. Both everything she was, and everything he couldn't have.

If Annie was right, the conversation he was about to initiate would be a good thing. If she was wrong--

If she's wrong, she's a dead woman, he thought to himself. Any more time to think or rethink the situation dissipated with the sound of Caroline's voice, calling to him.

"Richard? Would you mind helping me with these?"

She was gesturing to the shopping bags, and he nodded before finding his voice. "In a minute. Can we talk?" he asked nervously, then pointed at the couch.

"Sure," she agreed easily, making herself comfortable seconds after. "What's up?"

It took every ounce of courage he could muster to join her and force the question from his mouth.

"Caroline, how much involvement do you want me to have in this?"

The happy glimmer left her eyes, her expression turning serious at once. "As much as you want to have," she answered cautiously.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about what I'm thinking right now. Just answer honestly."

"I can't," she whispered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. One broke free instantly.

"Why?" he asked, confused. He had to physically stop himself from reaching out and wiping the lone streak from her face.

"If I say the wrong thing," she choked out, "I could lose you."

"You won't," he assured her. "Just tell me, Caroline. I can take it."

She shook her head, the tears falling faster. It was too much stress for her, he realized. **He** was causing her stress. He hated himself for that.

"Caroline, please," he begged her, "Don't cry. Just calm down, ok? Take deep cleansing breaths. In through your nose," he said as he demonstrated, "Out through your mouth." He exhaled, then encouraged her to do the breathing with him by continuing.

When she seemed calmer, he stopped the relaxation technique, then asked, "Ok now?" She nodded.

"Good. Ok," he said, preparing himself emotionally for what he was about to say, forcing the fear and doubts of doing so from his mind. "I'm just going to have to take the proverbial bull by the horns here and say what needs to be said."

He took one last cleansing breath before blurting out, "I want recognition as the baby's father."

"Recognition?" she asked, even though she had an idea of what he meant by what he'd said. She wanted to be sure before she assumed incorrectly.

"I want to be known as the baby's father," he clarified, though he was fairly certain she had at least an inkling of what he had meant when he first said it. "I know we agreed that I would just be a friend through this and nothing more, but-"

"You changed your mind?" she asked, somewhat interrupting him, finishing his thoughts for him. He nodded slowly, and a whisper of a smile slipped onto her face. "Me too."

"Forgive me, Caroline," he apologized, the familiar hint of humor hiding in his voice, "But my heart is beating so loudly in my ears, my brain has shut down. Exactly what does 'me too' mean?"

"It means, I've changed my mind too. It means, I want you to be recognized as the baby's father. It means-"

"It **means**," he interrupted, "We need to sit down and work the details of this arrangement, all over again."

"I guess it does," she agreed.

"It might make things more difficult," he said softly, almost apologetically, as if giving her a chance to change her mind.

She nodded. "It'll be worth it," she assured him, smiling wider than before. "Let's talk over dinner," she then suggested. "I'll order in."

A slight smile accompanied an even slighter nod.

**XXX**

--"Ok, let me get this straight," Annie chimed in after listening to all Caroline had to say. "He's on the birth certificate, the baby lives with you, he gets visitation, and the financial aspects are going to be decided later?"

"Right," Caroline nodded.

"So," Annie asked incredulously, "You'll be like a divorced couple with a kid?"

Caroline could tell by her friend's tone that she did not exactly approve of the arrangements she and Richard had worked out the night before. "Not **exactly** like that," she countered. "**We **don't hate each other!"

"Ok," Annie murmured her fake acceptance. "Just seems to me like your missing a very important step here."

"And what's that?" Caroline asked curiously.

"The marriage!" Annie exclaimed.

"Annie," Caroline scolded with a shake of her head. "We're not going to get married just because we're having a child together!"

"Ok," Annie agreed with her. "Then, what about for love?"

Caroline scoffed. "Richard doesn't love me, Annie!"

"Pretend that's not true," Annie said with a well-hidden smirk. "Where do **you** stand on that?"

Caroline looked away out of embarrassment. "I haven't really thought about it."

Pushing off the chair to stand, Annie chuckled as she headed for the door to leave. "Well, maybe it's time you **did**!"

Shock led to confusion which led to tears as Caroline stared at the door her friend had just left through. It all happened so quickly, she wasn't exactly sure what to make of it.

One minute, she was proudly discussing the agreement made the night before, the next, Annie was telling her to--

To, what? Marry Richard? Date him? Examine her feelings for him?

Shaking her head to rid her mind of the onslaught of foreign thoughts, she sighed. Whatever her feelings for him, she couldn't think or worry about it. She could only handle one life-altering event at a time, and she was in the middle of one presently.

Rubbing her abdomen thoughtfully, she addressed her unborn child. "Don't worry, whatever happens between mommy and daddy, we will both always love you."

**XXX**

--The deadline was fast approaching, and Richard worked feverishly, with one eye on the clock, desperate to finish before Charlie showed to make the pickup.

Only slightly blocked, Caroline had finished the panels in enough time, but due to all the little non-work related tasks she'd had Richard doing, and because she was too tired to help him with his job, as she usually did when they would start falling behind, the strip was in danger of not being completed in time.

Noticing the imperfection, Richard hopped off his seat and rushed to Caroline's side, reluctant to wake her, but knowing he had to. Her strip was not just important to her, it was her life, and in his hurried state, he didn't want to make a mistake and upset her.

Kneeling next to the couch with the panel and a pen in his hand, he gently roused her. "Caroline, I'm sorry to wake you, but you didn't give me a holding line here." He pointed to the problem as Caroline's eyes attempted to focus.

"Sorry," she apologized, then took the pen in hand to make the correction. Before pen even touched paper, however, she gasped and stopped all movement.

Concern shot through Richard like a bolt of electricity. "What?" he asked, in a slightly panicked tone. "What's wrong?"

Her smile started to put him a bit at ease before she answered him, "The baby just kicked."

Time stood still as he dropped the panel and hovered his hand over her abdomen, his eyes silently asking permission to touch her.

Her hand atop his, she guided him to the location of the previously felt kick, and almost as if their son could sense his father's nearness, he kicked again.

"Isn't that amazing?" Caroline whispered, in awe. He smiled down on her, then, out of nowhere, he started to lean in.

Immediately, her brain processed what was happening. He was going to kiss her. She was sure of it, but then, suddenly, he stopped.

Disappointment gnawed at her briefly, until she noticed him moving towards her again. She held her breath, anticipating the kiss, but instead of his lips on hers, a soft peck was planted on her forehead.

The hand he'd left on her, the one being assaulted by his child in utero, seemed to be almost caressing her for a moment, then without warning or indication, all contact was removed.

"It **is** amazing," he whispered, a genuine smile lighting up his face, but it dropped away a second later. "Sorry to be the one to ruin the moment, but I still have two panels to go, it's two hours before your deadline, Charlie will be here in a little more than an hour, and I still need that holding line." He lifted the panel again, holding it up for Caroline to inspect and fix.

Shakily, she added the needed line, watching as he stood and returned to his side of the desk. The tingling sensations he'd created in her lingered, begging to be acknowledged and rewarded, but she could do nothing but shiver and wish it away.

Wanting to kiss her, he had leaned in, but clarity found him in time. He'd kissed her forehead to save face, knowing she saw his descent towards her. Even that platonic gesture stirred him, causing his hand to caress her of its own volition.

He shouldn't have done it- he shouldn't have enjoyed it, but, he did. He just hoped that in her sleepy state, she didn't see the desire dancing in his eyes.

"You can go back to sleep, if you want to," he told her, cutting through the silence of the room. "I don't see any more problems on this panel, or the other one."

She only nodded in response, closing her eyes to feign sleep. The only sound in the room, besides the soft hum of the refrigerator, was the squeaking of the pen as it made contact with paper, the man in control of it filling her thoughts to overflowing.

**XXX**

--"Richard, something's weird," Caroline said into the phone, and his sleepiness cleared instantly at the sound of distress in her voice.

The clock read 2:22 A.M., but to him, the time didn't matter. If she needed him for any reason, he wanted her to call, and he told her as much many times.

"Define weird," he asked of her. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she whispered, making it difficult to hear her.

"Are you in pain?" he asked, but her answer didn't immediately follow.

"Not exactly," she eventually replied, the cryptic answer only causing him deeper concern.

"Talk to me, Caroline," he said, firmly yet softly. "Tell me what's wrong."

"It's not the baby kicking," she explained, or at least tried to. "It's too rhythmic." Her voice sounded far away, like it was distant even from her.

She wasn't making any sense, and he just knew he would never get to the bottom of whatever the trouble was over the phone.

"I'm coming over," he announced, not even bothering to say goodbye before hanging up the receiver. He grabbed his clothes and just threw them on, followed by his shoes, then he located the book he had gone to bed reading and snatched it from off the floor before racing out the door.

**X**

--Using his copy of her key, Richard didn't even knock before he unlocked the door and entered, bounding through, like a man on a mission. He spotted Caroline a second later, on the couch, curled in a ball. She was crying, and had been for some time, he guessed, by the tear stains on her face and the redness of her eyes.

Kneeling in front of her, he took her hands in his. It didn't look unlike a marriage proposal, and if anyone had walked in right then, they might've thought just that.

"Please, Caroline, tell me what's wrong," he begged of her. He wanted to cry, just by the expression she held.

"It just keeps going," she said, her voice strained. "And it's not the baby kicking," she added. "That feels very different."

"Does it hurt?" he asked, not really knowing what 'it' was, but needing to start somewhere.

"No," she whispered, then freed one of her hands to take one of his, placing it on her abdomen, off towards her left side. "Do you feel it?" she asked sadly, pressing his hand with hers firmly into her.

After a moment of determined focus, he nodded. "I feel it."

"What is it?" she asked tearfully, new tears spilling over as she looked helplessly into his eyes.

He shook his head, answering honestly, "I don't know." He removed his hand from her grip, the one not being pressed into her side, then grabbed the book he had brought from home from off the floor where he had dropped it.

Scanning through the table of contents quickly, a difficult task with one hand, he attempted to find any chapter that dealt with whatever this was. Not knowing what it was, however, he was unable to determine where to start looking.

"I looked in the book," she told him. "I couldn't find anything."

"What book?" he asked, looking up at her with curious confusion.

"I bought a copy of the same book," she explained, her eyes closing slowly.

A subject for another time, he told himself, then tossed the book aside. "Let me see something," he asked of her, then gestured for her to roll over so that she would be flat on her back. "Lift your shirt," he instructed, "And pull your pants down like you did at the ultrasound."

It was an odd request, but she was so grief stricken over the possibility that something was wrong with her baby, that she did it without question or hesitation.

Apprehensively, he leaned in, placing his ear at the spot she had pressed his hand into so firmly before, then listened intently for what seemed like several minutes.

"Hmmm," he hummed, his head still resting on her. "I'm not sure," he whispered, "But do you know what I think it is?" He didn't wait for her response before continuing. "I think it's the hiccups."

He pulled back, initiating eye contact with her, and her brow furrowed as she stared back at him.

"Hiccups?" she asked, heartache slipping towards perplexity. "As in, the baby has the hiccups?"

There was only a faint nod, preceding a fainter smile, before he quickly grabbed the book again and located the chapter he thought would have the best chance of covering that subject. After a moment of reading, he looked to her and smiled.

"I think our son has the hiccups."

The relief was so great that Caroline burst into tears, a thousand emotions overwhelming her at once.

Frightened by the display, Richard helped her into a sitting position and immediately gathered her into his arms.

"Shh," he soothed, consoling her like one might a small child, "It's ok."

"I was **so** scared," she breathed, pulling him tighter to her, desperate for the contact to take away her emotional pain. "I thought I was losing the baby!"

"The baby's fine," he assured her. "He's in there kicking, isn't he? Probably annoyed by the hiccups," he added humorously, which brought out a small chuckle in Caroline.

"You really think that's what it is?" she asked, sniffling and wiping at her wet face.

He nodded. "Pretty sure. You want to go to the hospital? Just to be on the safe side?"

She shook her head. "Maybe just call the doctor?"

Before she could even finish the request, Richard was off his knees and heading for the phone.

**X**

--"The doctor said it sounds like the hiccups," Richard informed just after ending the call, "But he was reluctant to give a medical diagnosis over the phone. He said if you experience any cramps or bleeding, to go straight to the E.R., otherwise, he wants to see you in the morning, at 9:30."

"I feel foolish now," she chuckled nervously, her eyes finding the stripes of her pajama bottoms of the utmost interest.

"Why?" he asked, approaching her slowly.

"Cause," she answered, almost sounding irritated, but just at herself, "Here I am, freaking out over hiccups!"

"But," he reminded her, "You didn't know they were hiccups. You didn't know **what** they were."

"I didn't even know a baby in utero could **get** hiccups!" she returned with a sharp exhale of breath.

"According to the doctor, they're actually pretty common," he said as he approached the couch she was still sitting on.

"Thanks for coming over," she sighed, feeling guilty for interrupting his sleep.

He eased his body down onto the cushion beside her. "I said," he reminded her, "**Any **time, for **any **reason."

She nodded appreciatively, resting her head on his shoulder, smiling slightly to herself; her breathing was uneven as her sobs subsided. "You know," she murmured after several moment's silence, "Knowing **now** what this is, it kinda feels neat."

"Not for him, I'll bet," he joked.

"No, probably not," she agreed, adding, "Wish there was something we could do for him."

Just then, an idea skipped into Richard's brain. "You know, they say babies in utero can hear. That you should talk to them, and you can even play music for them." He stood, then asked, "Where's that tape I made for you? The one you called 'calming like a coma'?"

Caroline cracked an apologetic smile before muttering, "On the table by the windowsill, next to the Helen Reddy CD."

He rolled his eyes over her taste in music, then asked, "And your walkman and headphones?"

"Top shelf of the closet, upstairs."

He was off in a flash movement, quickly returning with all the items he'd asked her about. Slipping the tape into the player first, he then pressed play, stretching the headphones across her abdomen as he smiled down on her.

"This music always relaxes me," he said to her before retaking his seat beside her. "It couldn't hurt to try, right?"

Smiling, she closed her eyes and nodded, snuggling into his side and resting her head, once again, on his shoulder. His arm slipped around her, holding her gently, the music coming from the headphones barely discernable. Within a few minutes, both were fast asleep.

**TBC**

Please review!

MTLBYAKY


	5. Chapter 5

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 5**

**XXX**

--The jabbing sensation woke Richard from his sleep, his eyes straining to focus on the annoying person responsible for it.

"What's this?" Annie asked in a whisper, gesturing between him and the sleeping form beside him.

Realization seeped in, clearing his mind and sobering him quickly. They must have fallen asleep, he surmised, inching his arm free when he realized it was still around Caroline.

"Don't wake her." He mouthed the words, inaudibly, then gestured towards the hall. Annie led the way, he followed close behind.

"She called me last night," he explained once outside the door, speaking quietly. "We had a bit of a scare."

"Oh my God." Annie instantly became concerned. "What happened?"

"She's fine," he assured her. "Turned out to be nothing, but she was pretty scared for a while."

"So, then," Annie asked curiously, "What was it?"

"The baby had the hiccups," he told her.

Scowling, she stared back at him for a moment before repeating his words in the form of a question. "The baby had the hiccups?"

Mistaking Annie's tone for an attack of sorts on Caroline, he immediately jumped to her defense. "She didn't know what it was! She thought she was losing the baby! You didn't see her," he added wistfully. "I've never seen her so scared."

"And the sleeping arrangements?" she asked with a smirk, to which he rolled his eyes.

"Was an accident," he snipped back. "It was late. I was consoling her. I guess we just dozed off."

Annie backed off her teasing, gaining seriousness. "Sounds like a rough night."

"It was," he muttered. "That look of terror on her face-" He shuddered as the image of her from hours before slammed into his mind. "It almost killed me."

"You love her," Annie stated simply, knowing he wouldn't confirm or admit it, but feeling compelled to say it none-the-less.

"Annie," he scolded with defeated irritation, "Don't start."

"Richard," she said softly, "It's ok to love her."

She used his given name again, an invitation to open up to her. It had worked in the past, but this time, he reacted very differently.

First moving to close the door to Caroline's apartment, so that the conversation he was about to have wouldn't wake her or be overheard, he turned to face Annie, eyes narrowed.

"What game are you playing?" he asked her, his tone almost accusatory. "Every time you call me Richard instead of Richie, I'm supposed to just bear my soul to you?"

For a moment, a look of hurt or offense flitted across her face, but near instantly, it changed.

"I was just trying to help!" she snipped in a whisper. "I thought you could use a sounding board or something! A friend to hash things out with! Believe me, I won't make **that **mistake again!"

Guilt ascended in his throat like stomach acid as he watched her march away, enter her own apartment, and slam the door.

The soft knock told her he was just outside the door, and at first, she considered ignoring it, but then she heard him call to her, his tone remorseful.

"Annie? I'm sorry."

The door flew open seconds later, and he was actually shocked to see tears in her eyes.

He weighed his options, between offering a consoling comment or a sarcastic one. Finally, he opted for the latter.

"I didn't know you could cry," he said with a smirk, and almost instantly, a smile erupted across her face.

"Yeah, well, there's a lot about me you don't know." Stepping aside to allow him entry, she asked, "Wanna talk?"

He accepted her offer with a nod as he slipped inside.

**X**

--"I'm not confirming anything, mind you," Richard prefaced his next statement, "But, let's say that I **am** in love with Caroline. If I tell her, it could ruin everything."

"How so?" Annie asked, handing him a cup of coffee as she sat beside him on the couch with a cup of her own.

He looked into the mug, then back up at her, asking, "Instant coffee?"

"I don't even own a coffee maker," she said with a shrug. "I always just drink Caroline's."

When he rolled his eyes, she rolled hers right back. "Just shut up and drink it."

Talking a cautious sip, he immediately wrinkled his nose, holding the mug at arm's length. "Ugh! Annie! What did you use, potting soil?" When handing the mug back to her, he muttered, "I can't drink that."

"So, then, **don't** drink it!" she shot back, adding, "Stop avoiding the question!"

"I'm not avoiding," he insisted.

"Then, answer it," she huffed, setting his unwanted coffee on the table in front of them.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he eased back against the couch cushions, amazed that he was even **considering** admitting out loud, what he had kept hidden for far too long. And to Annie of all people.

"Before Caroline got pregnant, if I had told her that I am in love with her, and the feelings weren't reciprocated, I would have made a fool out of myself **and** lost a friend. That would have been torture enough! Now, add to that, losing out on a relationship with my son?" He groaned at the thought of it.

"Why are you so sure you'd lose her as a friend?" Annie asked sincerely. "Look at all her and Del have been through! And they're still friends! And trust me," she added, "Regardless of your relationship with her, she would never deny you your son."

It was obvious to her by his expression that he didn't completely believe that to be true.

"You love her," she challenged him, "Yet you think she's capable of being **so** hurtful? Or are you just **that** insecure?"

"The latter," he admitted with a sigh. "I just can't bear the thought of losing her, Annie." His voice took on an almost tearful quality that Annie had never heard in him before. "If I say nothing, I will at least have her in my life as a friend. I'd rather have that, than nothing at all."

"You'll have that anyway," she told him. "But, if you take the risk, and tell her how you **really** feel, you could have everything you've wanted since the day you first started working for her."

He glanced at her briefly, before dropping his eyes to the floor. "That's a bit presumptuous," he muttered, guarded.

"Caroline told me about the fake date at Remo's," Annie explained herself. "No one kisses a **friend**, a **new friend**, like **that**, unless they have some kind of attraction to them!"

"She told you about that?" he asked, surprised, his eyes locked on the dust-bunny beneath her coffee table.

"We're best friends!" Annie exclaimed with a laugh. "We tell each other everything!"

Knowing that to be true, having been tortured with countless 'hen parties' since the day he was first hired, Richard then realized, if he wanted a glimpse into Caroline's feelings for him, Annie would be his best bet to get it.

"What did she say about it?" he asked her carefully, trying to sound casual against his racing heart.

"I can't tell you that," she told him seriously. "It was said to me in confidence."

He had to respect that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed, but the feeling was short lived.

"I will tell you **this** though," she added, a smirk prominent. "The word 'wow' was used more than once."

The idea that Caroline could have felt the very same soul-altering connection that night thrilled him, causing a smile to creep across his features without him even realizing it.

"You can smile?" Annie teased, and the expression dropped at once from his face.

"Ok," he said, attempting to gain composure, "Let's just say, hypothetically, that I am in love with Caroline. Still not confirming that, by the way," he added, almost like it was a side note, and Annie nodded her understanding. "I don't think telling her right **now** is the best of ideas."

"Cause she's pregnant?" Annie asked, and Richard nodded.

"She is **so** hormonal right now. Last night, when she realized the baby was ok, she became hysterical! It was the extreme relief of it, I'm sure, but, it seems like even good news sets her off to crying."

"They say that's normal," she offered, smirking when he raised an eyebrow at her.

"And how do **you** know what **they** say?" he asked in a somewhat contemptuous tone.

"Same way **you** know," she told him, making the shape of a rectangle in mid air with her index fingers as she announced, "From a **book**!"

"And which book might that be?" he asked, sounding as if he was trying to catch her at something.

"The same book you've been reading," she answered, playing along as if they were engaging in some sort of game.

"And how do you know what book I've been reading?" His tone was now bordering on anger.

Playtime was over, Annie realized, but she kept her tone light anyway. "Caroline and I went to your apartment and found it."

"You invaded my privacy?" he snapped at her, appalled.

"Chill, Richie," she scoffed, dismissing his irritation. "Caroline just wanted a copy of it cause you're always giving her such great advice, so I suggested we just hop on over to your place and get the name of it. Don't worry," she added, "We didn't disturb any of the filth."

"You had no right!" Richard barked at her. "If Caroline wanted to know the name of the book, she should've just asked me!"

"Yeah, right," Annie scoffed again. "She couldn't even get you to admit to **having** a pregnancy book!"

Seeing her point, his anger softened slightly. "Still," he muttered, guilt mixing with his irritation as he spoke, "You had no right."

"I don't see what the big deal is," she said, adding, "Caroline doesn't care that you go into **her** place whenever."

"Caroline doesn't have-" He stopped abruptly, looking away in embarrassment.

"A painting of you hanging over her bed?" She completed his unfinished sentence in the form of a question, suppressing a grin, and Richard's eyes grew wide in response. "Don't worry," she told him calmly, "She didn't see it."

"But **you** did!" he shot back, his anger resurfacing. "And, quite frankly, what I have in **my** apartment is none of **your** business!"

"Look, Richie," she sighed, "I know you have this weird privacy thing or whatever. Fine, but, this isn't that big a deal! She didn't see the painting, we were there less than five minutes! We found the book, saw the name of it and left!"

"You don't get it, do you?" he snipped, standing to leave. "It's not how long you were there, or what Caroline did or didn't see."

Guessing that the bigger issue with him was Caroline's involvement in invading his privacy, she offered words she hoped would help diffuse some of his anger. "If it makes you feel any better, Caroline didn't want any part of it. I had to drag her down there. I had to drag her inside. I don't even think she touched the door knob. She just basically stood in the middle of the room with her arms crossed."

Judging by his reaction, she had been right. He stopped his departure at the door, his voice much softer than before.

"So, basically, it was **you** corrupting Caroline, yet again."

"Yep," she returned casually, almost proudly. "You know me. I just pretty much do whatever the hell I want."

It was meant as a joke, Richard realized, and he rolled his eyes as if in agreement.

"If you want to hate me," Annie told him, "Then go ahead. But don't be mad at Caroline," she asked of him. "She would be crushed, if she thought she upset you."

"I don't hate you," he muttered distantly. "I'm just not real happy with you at the moment."

"Is there anything I can do to change that?" she asked seriously.

He cocked an eyebrow. He knew she was being sincere, but he went for the joke anyway. "Are you under the impression that I'm one of your sleazy bar pickups? Or drunk?"

Playtime was back, and she smirked in response to his quip.

"Are you under the impression that I would ever in a million years let you see me naked?"

Crossing his arms, he gained seriousness again, his gaze dropping to his shoes, and the hardwood floor just beyond them. "You really don't think she saw the painting?"

"She didn't see it," she assured him, then asked, "When did you paint it?" She wasn't expecting him to answer, and was actually shocked when he did.

"While in Paris," he whispered. "I missed her."

There was a moment of silence before Annie cooed playfully, causing Richard to huff in response.

"Ugh!" he groaned. "I'm leaving!"

"Richie," she called out to him, and he stopped short of stepping through the door, his back remaining to her. "Good talk."

Nodding, he muttered, "You know, I think I'm going to have to upgrade you to friend."

"What was I before?" she asked, curious to hear his answer.

He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk barely visible to her. "A pain in the ass?"

She laughed as she followed him out the door and across the hall.

**XXX**

--Richard liked Caroline's doctor. He didn't patronize or dismiss her, he had a great bedside manner, and he wasn't overly chipper, which to Richard, was an inappropriate trait for such a professional to possess.

The ultrasound showed their son to be perfectly healthy, and in zero distress, and their combined accounts of the incident pointed to a textbook case of hiccups, according to the doctor.

After the doctor assured her that all was well, and that she could call them any time, day or night, if she had questions or concerns, he left the room, leaving Caroline and Richard alone.

"You were right," Caroline said, her tone melancholy. Richard immediately picked up on her saddened mood.

"Yeah?" he questioned her. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No," she told him, hopping off the exam table. "Just feeling embarrassed," she admitted. "Crying like that. I know how weak you think that is," she added, heading for the door. Richard stepped in front of her abruptly, preventing her from leaving.

"I think it's weak?" he challenged her. "Where in the world did you come up with **that**?"

"C'mon, Richard," she sighed. "I see the way you look at me, when I start crying. The way you act around me. The way you cringe," she added, moving to pass him. He matched her steps, stopping her once again.

"Is that what you think?" he asked, offended. "That I react that way, because I think you're weak?" When she offered no response, he shook his head and sighed. "Let's just go," he snipped, marching out the door and down the hall, towards the exit. Shocked, it took a moment for Caroline to move and catch up.

**X**

--The cab ride home consisted of awkward silence, Richard's features locked, his jaw set. He was angry, and while Caroline was dying to understand why exactly, she couldn't quite find the words to broach the subject.

As they entered her apartment, Richard whipped off his coat and hung it on the hook with dramatic irritation, then marched over to his side of the desk and started slamming panels around as he sifted through the day's workload.

Finally, the tension being more than she could bear, Caroline decided to speak up.

"I'm sorry I upset you," she apologized, her voice meekly quiet.

"I'm fine," Richard snipped. "Let's just get these done and move on."

"You're not fine," Caroline snipped back. "You're angry! And I want to know why!"

"You want to know why?" he challenged her, uncharacteristically stomping his foot once on the ground for emphasis. "You want to know why I can't stand to see you cry?!" he asked, his voice rising. "Because every time you cry, a part of me dies!"

The outburst still loomed in the air as he spun around, unable to face her, knowing her eyes would question him, even if she didn't.

The skyline out the window became his momentary salvation. Anything to avoid seeing the expression he knew she was wearing.

"Richard?"

He realized by how quickly her voice reached his ears, that she was standing right behind him. Drowning in the sounds the adrenalin rush he was experiencing was causing, he didn't hear her approach.

"What?" he whispered sharply.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," she apologized softly. "I'm sorry for my assumptions."

Hearing the tears in her voice, he closed his eyes, fighting against the desire to hold her and comfort her. "You're forgiven," he whispered, adding, "I'm sorry for yelling."

"You're forgiven," she accepted, reaching out to touch his shoulder. His eyes opened at the simple contact. "We should get to work," she suggested, knowing he would like nothing more than to change the subject. "The doctor's appointment set us back a couple hours."

"Yeah," he agreed, stammering uncomfortably, "I just- I need a minute." Without waiting for a response, he stepped away and headed towards the bathroom without looking back.

A simple glance at his reflection was all he afforded himself, knowing what he would find if he stared into the iron-trimmed glass.

A man in agony. A man so in love, it caused him physical pain. A man lost in a world he created for himself, by refusing to admit the truth.

--"Caroline!" Del announced himself as he entered without knocking, approaching her hurriedly. "Richard isn't here?" he asked, glancing around the room, but he didn't wait for her to answer before continuing. "Good. I have to talk to you! Charlie just told me-" He sighed and shook his head. "Long story short, Caroline, Richard knows."

"Knows what?" she asked, glancing in the general direction of the bathroom.

"He knows we know!" he exclaimed, jumping when he heard the bathroom door open. Trying to cover his shock, he smiled and gave Richard an awkward wave. "You **are** here!" he stated the obvious, his gaze moving back to Caroline.

"You didn't give me a chance to speak," she offered in explanation for why she didn't warn him that Richard was in fact, there.

"What do I know?" Richard asked, eyeing them both suspiciously.

"Look, Richard," Caroline spoke cautiously, "I didn't tell them. I just confirmed it when they figured it out."

"And hey," Del added, trying to help, "It's no big deal! If she had asked me- Well, if she had asked me, I would have said no, but I would've been flattered!"

"I don't care if they know, Caroline." Richard directed the statement to her and her alone, ignoring Del's ramblings.

"I didn't know that at the time," she ratted on herself. "It was before we worked out the new arrangement."

"I'm lost," Del included himself in the semi-private conversation. "What new arrangement? Why isn't he mad? I thought you said he didn't want anyone knowing he was the sperm donor."

"Hey, people!" Annie sang as she barged through the door, and upon seeing Del, added with a smirk, "And you too, Del." The smile left her face a second later, when she could almost see the tension hanging in the room. "Whoa! What's going on?"

"Richard knows that Del knows," Caroline explained. "And now Del knows that Richard knows that he knows."

Richard rolled his eyes. "Scholarly," he quipped sarcastically, returning to the desk.

"Somebody fill me in here," Del requested. "Why isn't he mad? What new arrangement?"

"We decided that Richard should be recognized as the baby's father," Caroline told him, glancing at Richard briefly before giving the floor her undivided attention.

"Whoa! I didn't know you guys were a couple!" Del exclaimed happily, surprised when both Caroline and Richard snapped their heads up and looked back at him in shock.

"They're not a couple, Del," Annie chimed in. "They're just two people who happen to be having a baby together."

Her tone was just a little too jovial for Richard, who shot her a glare in warning.

"So, wait, I don't understand," Del said, confused. "If they're not a couple, what does that mean for Richard and his son?"

"He gets **visitation**," Annie explained with a lilt of amusement on the last word.

"Visitation?" Del laughed. "What are they, divorced?"

"I know!" Annie laughed with him. "They weren't even married!"

Richard and Caroline shared brief looks before turning their attention back to the laughing twosome.

"Look," Caroline told them both sternly, "We're happy with what we worked out! And it's not about what you guys think! Or what anyone else thinks! This is about me, Richard, and our son!" She placed her hand on her slightly swollen abdomen when the final two words left her mouth.

Richard listened intently, but outwardly, showed no emotion to what Caroline was saying. It was only after Caroline essentially kicked the two annoyances out, telling them they had work to do, that he finally spoke up.

"Well said," he commended her and she smiled at the simple praise.

"Thanks. Now, on the third box of the second panel," she changed the subject over to work, "I want cartoon Richard's cape to be dark blue. Otherwise, I trust your judgment."

"Cape?" Richard half-whined, locating the strip she had just referred to. "I'm a superhero now?"

She laughed. "I don't know, I think the utility belt and grappling hook looks rather dashing!"

He mumbled in disagreement before muttering, "At least you're getting better at drawing my nose. Why am I rescuing a bus full of nuns?" he asked.

"Cause if you don't, they'll fall off the cliff and plummet to their deaths!" she shot back with a laugh.

He hummed his disapproval, asking, "Midnight blue or navy?"

"Midnight," she answered. "Navy will look black at printing, and I want the cape to stand out from your already black attire."

He nodded once as he plucked the agreed upon color from the pen caddy and immediately started in on his work.

**XXX**

--The phone ringing startled Richard awake abruptly, causing him to slam his head on the short amount of wall beside his bed.

"Damnit!" he cursed, throwing the blankets off and lunging for the annoyingly shrill object.

"What?" he snipped into the phone, rubbing his bruising head.

"Richard?" Caroline's voice filled his ears. "Did you mean it when you said I could call any time, for any reason?"

"Yeah," he said softly, "What's up?"

"Well, it's stupid," she chuckled embarrassedly. "I'm craving pickles."

"Pickles?" he asked with a slight smile, locating his shoes and sitting to slip them on.

"Yeah," she said, adding, "I tried to find someone who delivers at this time of night, but that was a no-go."

He glanced over at his bedside clock; it read 12:43 A.M. "Sweet or dill?" he asked, cradling the phone on his shoulder so he could pull his shoe laces tight and tie them.

"Dill," she said with a smile he could almost hear. "The spears. The crunchy ones, in the refrigerated section."

"Crunchy cold dill spears," he repeated. "Fine. Anything else?"

"Ginger-ale?" she asked timidly, wondering if she was overstepping some kind of bounds by adding to the list.

Smiling, he rolled his eyes. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he told her, adding, "You **do** intend to pay me back for these purchases, right?"

"The minute you get here," she promised. "And Richard?" she added, grabbing his attention before he hung up, "Thank you."

He mumbled something indiscernible before Caroline heard the click, indicating the call had been disconnected.

**X**

--The door was unlocked, making entrance into her apartment as easy as turning the knob. He startled when he saw Caroline standing a few feet from the door, a monetary bill in her outstretched hand and a smile on her face.

He shook his head slightly to stave off his elevated heart rate, informing her as he turned to shut the door, "Crazy people shop at this insane hour of the morning. Some woman was actually caught trying to steal toilet paper from one of the customer bathrooms."

When he spun back around to face her, she smiled wider and waggled the money that was in her hand at him. "I see it," he said flatly, then raised the bag he was carrying. "Trade?"

She nodded, and they exchanged items at the same time, almost as if nervous that the other would renege at the last second, though both knew neither would.

"Twenty dollars?" he asked her, surprised. "Caroline," he quipped, "I know this is New York and all, but I think you've overestimated the cost of a jar of pickled cucumbers and a six pack of ginger flavored seltzer water."

"The extra is for your trouble," she told him as she immediately yanked her treasure from the bag and popped open the jar. She plucked a spear from the brine and chomped half of it in one large bite, smiling sheepishly back at Richard when she realized he was watching her.

"Take off your coat, Richard," she mumbled as she chewed, "Stay a while."

"I can't," he told her, looking away. "Take off my coat, I mean. I'm not dressed."

She nearly choked on her food, her eyes growing wide. "You're, naked?"

Rolling his eyes, he said, "No, I'm still in my pajamas." Plunging his hands in his coat pockets, he moved enough of the material aside to show off the knee area of his plaid pajama pants.

Swallowing first she smiled as she said, "I've seen you in your jammies before! C'mon! Get comfy! Keep me company for a while!"

Resigned, he slipped off his coat and hung it on the hook. When he turned back around, she was heading for the couch.

"Want a pickle?" she asked as she plopped down on the sofa, the jar still in her hands.

"Sure," he muttered, joining her. "You're going to eat the entire jar in one setting?" he asked, taking what she offered.

"Probably not," she mumbled, a bite in progress. "Why?"

"I don't want our son to come out pickled and smelling of dill and spices," he quipped, smiling as he chomped down on the crunchy spear in his hand.

She laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. "I don't think it works that way," she told him, rubbing her belly. "Happy now?" she asked their son. "Daddy brought you the pickles you ordered."

When he reached out to place his hand on her abdomen, she moved hers aside to accommodate him, smiling at him as she set her hand atop his.

"I saw your light on through the crack under the door!" Annie announced as she let herself in. "What'cha doin up so late-?" She stopped abruptly when she saw that Caroline wasn't alone. "Hey, Richie!" she said as she rounded the couch. "Oooh, pickles!" she chirped, helping herself. "Nice pants!" she directed at Richard, then laughed. "Going golfing later?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Hello, Annie. Another late night conquest?"

"Conquered and dismissed," she announced proudly, then asked, "So, what're we doin?"

"Just hanging out," Caroline answered, to which Annie nodded.

"Hey, wanna play Scrabble or something?" she suggested cheerfully. "I'm too up to sleep."

"But shouldn't you be showering now and carving another notch on your bedpost?" Richard asked dryly.

"Shouldn't **you** be out with your utility belt and cape, rescuing little old ladies from cliff tops?" she shot back.

"The Scrabble game is in the cabinet under the stairs," Caroline said, interrupting their bantering.

Annie chuckled as she popped the rest of her pickle in her mouth, slapped her hands together a couple times to rid them of the juice, then stood to retrieve the game board.

"Want us to spot you 50 points, Richie?" she asked smugly, "So you won't feel too much like shit, falling **so** far behind a couple of girls?"

Richard glared in her direction. "Just remember, Annie, cat is spelled with a **C**, not a **K**."

Annie nodded in approval of his comeback as she returned with the game. "Loser has to clean up?" she asked, then looked over at Richard. "Game goes on the shelf between Monopoly and Yahtzee," she instructed, implying he was going to lose. He smirked in response.

"Standard rules?" he asked. "Three minute game play, challenges allowed?"

Caroline shot Annie an amused look. "I think you assumed too soon," she told her. "I don't think he's a virgin Scrabble player."

Annie cleared her throat to cover her mild concern. "Doesn't matter," she insisted. "I can still whip his ass!"

"Only if you plan on bringing that bullwhip you use on your dates, over from your apartment," he returned, emotionless.

Annie huffed indignantly. "Care to make it interesting?"

He hummed, then asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"If **you** win," she suggested after a moment's thought, "I will cease and desist all wisecracks for 24 hours!"

He raised an eyebrow in interest. "And if **you** win?" he asked.

"If **I** win, you have to sing _I'm a Little Teapot_ in the middle of Remo's! Complete with choreography!"

"What time of day?" he asked, plucking his 7 starting tiles from the bag when Caroline handed it to him.

"Lunch rush," Annie said with a smirk.

He shook his head. "Uneven stakes."

"Ok then," Annie renegotiated, "One hour before closing."

Considering her proposal for a moment, he eventually extended his hand towards her. "Deal."

Caroline shook her head and laughed. "Let the games begin!"

**X**

--"That's 50 points for Richard, for using all his tiles, and minus 12 for Annie, for the tiles left in her hand," Caroline muttered as she tallied the score. "Minus 2 for me…" She trailed off as she did the math. "Richard wins with 264 points," she announced, adding, "I came in second with 216 points, and Annie, you earned 191 points."

Annie grumbled as she started to clear the coffee table of the game. "And when does my 24 hours of no wisecracks begin?" she asked Richard sourly.

"When you wake up later, whenever that'll be," he answered, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he leaned back against the couch cushions, his arms folded across his chest.

"You must've been pretty confident that you'd win," Caroline guessed, directing the comment at Richard.

He shrugged. "Chess wasn't the only game we played in chess club."

Annie scoffed. "Should've never bet with Poindexter here on a word game. Now, Yahtzee," she added, "That's a game of luck!"

"Tomorrow night?" Richard asked, accepting her round-about challenge, to which Annie smiled triumphantly.

"I'll have you embarrassing yourself in front of the patrons of Remo's yet!" Annie exclaimed, picking up the Scrabble box and heading for the little cupboard to return it.

"If we keep this up, I may never have to endure your attempts at sarcasm again," he returned flatly, purposefully trying to goad her.

It worked, and Annie huffed as she headed for the door. "The ban on wisecracks doesn't begin till later?" she asked to confirm, and Richard rolled his eyes as he nodded once, knowing was coming.

"Watch out for lightening storms while you're out at the golf course!" She smiled, satisfied, then walked immediately out the door.

"I don't know," Richard muttered, "That one seemed a little forced."

"Beneath all the jabs and bickering," Caroline asked seriously, "You and Annie really like each other, don't you?"

Richard could see the concern in her eyes. "I like Annie," he assured her. "It's just what we do."

She nodded, then suggested, "Why don't you stay here tonight?" She rushed on before he could respond and say no. "I worry about you walking around your neighborhood at this time of night."

"I can't work like this, Caroline," he told her, gesturing to the fact that he was still in his pajamas, "And I don't have any clothes here to change into."

"Well, the work load is light tomorrow," she informed him, "So I think we could afford a late start. Why don't you go back to your place when it gets light out, then come back?"

"If it'll make you feel better," he eventually agreed with a sigh.

She grinned as she thanked him, then lifted the lid to the coffee table to retrieve him some bedding and a pillow. He accepted it when she handed it down to him, but before she could turn away, his hand shot, lightly touching the roundness of her abdomen.

"Don't give your mom any grief," he requested of their child. "She needs the rest."

Moved by his openness, she placed her hand over his, stroking his fingers with her own. The electricity between them was almost palpable.

Slowly, his eyes moved up to look into hers, and she offered him a tiny smile as her hand left his to rake through his sandy curls.

His eyes drifted shut with her touch, his guard down and unchecked.

"Goodnight, Richard," she whispered, and his eyes shot open at the sound of her voice.

"Yes, goodnight," he stammered slightly, turning his attention to the bedding beside him, reining in his raw emotions. Only after he heard her footsteps on the stairs, did he dare to glance in her direction.

Hearing the door to her bedroom click shut, he perched his glasses atop his head and buried his face in his hands, sighing. The affect she had on him was getting harder to mask, and he groaned low in his throat as he willed his body to neutralize against her previous attentions.

--Caroline smiled to herself as she chucked the excessive throw pillows off her bed and to the floor. His reaction to her touch intrigued her, and her head swam with possible reasons for it.

One thing's for sure, she told herself silently as she climbed into bed and under the covers, he cares more for me than he lets on.

How much more, was the question.

**TBC**

Author's note:

**Hate** this word processor! For some odd reason, he keeps throwing in '-1' in front of my titles! As soon as I get a decent word program, hopefully by Wednesday, I will fix it. In the meantime, sorry about that.

Caroline, this story is not yet complete. I have to finish up the last chapter, then write the epilogue, and while it is **mostly** completed, it's all in a spiral bound notebook. Typing one chapter takes me **hours**! So, that's why it's taking so long for me to update. Not trying to torture you, believe me!

Ok, so, review time! Let me know what you think! And by 'you', I mean **you**! Yes, **you**! The one reading this right now, who's thinking, 'I don't need to review'. It won't hurt, trust me! Give it a click and say a few words!

Thanks, and MTLBYAKY


	6. Chapter 6

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 6**

**XXX**

--Richard was up and out the door before Caroline was even awake, and she noticed him missing instantly upon descending the stairs.

The couch sat empty, a neatly folded blanket with a pillow perched on top residing in the location he had occupied only hours before. On the coffee table nearby, a quickly scrawled note, left in such a way where she would be sure to find it.

'Caroline, I'll be back at 10:00. Richard.'

A glance at the clock on the microwave showed it to be 8:58. He would be back in an hour, she thought with a smile.

"Hey, Caroline," Annie greeted as she waltzed through the door, and upon seeing no immediate sign of him asked, "Where's Richie?"

"He went home to change," Caroline answered, adding almost proudly, "He stayed here last night."

"Oh, yeah?" Annie asked curiously, arching an eyebrow. "Dish!"

"Annie," Caroline scolded light-heartedly, "There's nothing to dish! It was late, and I didn't want him walking around his neighborhood at that time of night. I asked him to stay, so he stayed."

"Neat trick," she quipped. "Next time, ask him to roll over and play dead." She chuckled to herself as she headed for the kitchen to start the coffee.

"Must you do that?" Caroline asked with a sigh. "Jab at him, even when he's not here?"

Annie just shrugged. "Habit," she answered. "So, what did you guys end up doing after I left?"

"Nothing," Caroline told her defensively. "We both went to bed right after you left."

Annie could tell by the tone she used and the far-off look in her eyes that there was something her friend was holding back. "But??" she needled, trying to weasel out details.

Initially, Caroline had no intention of sharing with Annie, but excitement got the better of her. "Ok," she said to her, quietly, as if she was about to leak some deep dark secret, "I'll tell you. **But**, if you breathe a word of this, or tease him in **any** way, I will never confide in you again!"

Annie perked up, abandoning the coffeemaker for the time being. "Deal! What happened?"

Caroline recalled the events from hours earlier, glancing at the door often as if she expected to be interrupted at any moment. When finished, she looked to Annie expectantly.

"What do you think it means?" she asked, biting at her lower lip nervously.

Smiling, Annie returned to the task of coffee making as she answered, "I kinda know, but I can't say anything, cause it was told to me in confidence." She knew there was no way Caroline would let it drop at that.

"In confidence?" Caroline asked, somewhat confused, but then suddenly, she gasped. "Richard talks to you in confidence? About what?"

"The pregnancy," she answered with a shrug, swallowing her smile. "And, about you."

"What about me?" Caroline questioned with an almost desperate tone.

"I told you," Annie reminded, "I can't say. But," she added, turning to face her friend, "I will tell you **this**…" Caroline stood straighter, preparing herself for the statement to follow. "Remember when I told you, don't judge a book by its cover?" Caroline scowled as she nodded. "Think about it," she instructed, then immediately headed for the door.

"I'll be back for coffee after I get dressed," Annie tossed over her shoulder, smirking as she left, leaving her friend to do just that.

It felt like her head was spinning, and she could only watch helplessly as Annie walked out the door, leaving her alone with the cryptic statement and her racing thoughts.

Annie had hinted before that she should examine her feelings for Richard, but now it seemed, she was implying that Richard had feelings for **her**. The very idea of it both excited her and scared her to death.

She felt her baby kick sharply within her, probably annoyed by the adrenalin rush she was experiencing, and she apologized to him as she set her hand on the swelling that housed him.

"I think I'm in love with your daddy," she told the roundness beneath her palm, "And I think he might love me, too. But," she added, tears beginning to well, "Problem is, I don't know what I should do."

"Your daddy is **so** private- **so** guarded, when it comes to his feelings. If I just come right out and say something, he could very easily freak out and run. Emotionally, I mean," she reassured her belly with a consoling pat. "But," she added, "If I wait for **him** to say something, it could take him years to get up the courage! And I don't want to wait years!"

Tears fell faster, and in her attempt to wipe them, she didn't see or hear the front door open.

"Who are you talking to?" Richard asked as he entered, immediately hanging up his shed coat.

"Oh, Richard, hi!" she greeted over-enthusiastically, swiping at the wet on her face quicker than before. "You're early!" Plastering a forced smile on her face, she hoped to detract from the fact that she had been crying.

"The subway was on time for a change," he muttered, then startled imperceptibly when his eyes finally landed on her. "Why are you crying?"

"Just emotional," she answered dismissively, turning away. "That baby's been kicking!"

He wasn't buying it. Something else was wrong. "You're crying because the baby has been kicking?" he questioned her, eyeing her carefully as he waited for a response.

"I just can't wait to meet him, ya'know?" she covered, hoping it seemed like a logical enough reason for why she would be in tears.

He seemed satisfied with this, as he turned away and walked towards the kitchen to get himself some coffee.

Pleased with herself for dodging the real reason for her emotional behavior, she elaborated without thinking. "Yeah, I can't wait to see what he looks like! I bet he has your amazing brown eyes, and soft, wavy blond hair!"

"Ugh, Caroline," he groaned, "You should **not** be wishing **any** of my attributes onto the kid!"

"Why not?" she asked, following him through the kitchen and towards the desk. "If he's half as handsome as you are, he'll be fighting the ladies off with a stick!"

All activity halted, and meekly, he found himself asking, "You think I'm handsome?"

"Of course," she answered easily, surprised by the question. "Don't you?"

With a snort of a laugh, he set his coffee cup down and started sifting through panels. "No."

New tears formed as she realized, he was serious, and not just being modest. He actually thought he was unattractive.

"No one has ever told you how good-looking you are?" she asked him. "Not even your parents?"

He scoffed. " My dad once told me, nice nose, kid! Careful blowing it, you're liable to take out the neighborhood."

Tears broke free in that moment, unable to hold them back any longer. "Richard," she whispered, stepping up to him and wrapping her arms around him, pulling him somewhat unwillingly into hug. "You are a gorgeous man. And I **hope** our son is fortunate enough to be as lucky."

Amazed by her admission and emotional display, he held her awkwardly, his guard dropping slightly moments later as he allowed himself to enjoy her warmth.

All he could say was thank you, and he whispered those words as he pulled her tighter to him, nuzzling her hair.

"You're welcome," she whispered back, pressing her cheek comfortably against his chest, adding, "About last night. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"You didn't," he assured her, his heart racing. "You just surprised me." Needing distance, his emotions raw, he pushed away from her and cleared his throat. "What do you want me to start on?" he asked, his aloof demeanor returning.

The loss she felt as he side-stepped away from her was almost tangible. "The Sunday strip," she choked out, then bolted for and out the door without saying another word.

The shock over their exchange only registered on Richard's face after Caroline disappeared from the apartment. Something was different. Staring after her, possible reasons for her actions began whirling inside his brain.

Hormones? Pity? He wasn't sure. All he knew for sure, was that he was blowing it. His feelings for her leaking out in slow dribs and drabs, was obviously confusing her.

You cannot **do** this to her, he gave warning to his weak and bleeding heart. Watch yourself, or I will build the walls around you stronger and taller!

--Only knocking as a courtesy, Caroline shot through Annie's door and into her apartment, collapsing against it in tears as after flinging it shut.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" Annie asked, quickly whipping her shirt on, concerned.

Near sobbing, Caroline explained all that had just happened, wiping angrily at her wet cheeks as she demanded to know, "Does Richard have feelings for me? You're supposed to be my friend!" she spat. "Tell me!"

Annie sighed and gathered her hysterical friends into her arms. "I can't tell you that," she said softly. "Would you want me to tell him **your** secrets?" she asked, then gestured at the couch before telling her, "Sit down, ok? Do that, relaxation breathing thing."

"I don't want to breathe, Annie," Caroline snipped back as she took a seat, only slightly calmer. "I want answers."

Joining her, Annie told her, "If you think about it, you already **know** the answer. You're looking for confirmation, and **that**, I can't give you."

Dropping her face into her hands, she sighed, asking, "What am I supposed to do then?"

"A smart man told me once," Annie said as she rubbed her friend's back consolingly, "That pregnancy is a hormonal and emotional time. If one **were** to start a relationship, it would be best to wait till **after** the baby is born."

Caroline looked up into Annie's smiling face, the subtext of what she was saying clear.

"Maybe now **isn't** the best time to be starting a new relationship," she choked out, trying for a smile.

"There ya go!" Annie praised her. "It's not a matter of 'if', sweetie, it's just a matter of 'when'. Just, enjoy the pregnancy for now," she advised, helping to wipe the tears from her friend's face. "The rest will fall into place later."

**X**

--Trying to soothe her angry red complexion, she splashed cold water on her face before leaving Annie's apartment, but it did little good. Someone as observant as Richard would surely notice something was amiss.

"My God, Caroline," he exclaimed as she entered her apartment, "You look like you've been sobbing! What's wrong?" he asked worriedly, stepping out from behind his side of the desk, but keeping his distance.

"Mood swing," she laughed, waving haphazardly to dismiss any importance of her appearance. "I'm ok," she assured him, forcing a smile.

"You're sure?" he asked, in limbo between approaching and hugging her, and returning to his chair.

"I'm sure," she insisted, adding as she broke eye contact and headed for the kitchen, "Annie talked me down."

Nodding, he returned to his seat, asking, "Speaking of, where is the second rate Scrabble player this morning? It's not like her, not to be here mooching off of you."

"She's getting dressed," Caroline answered, then asked, "Am I going to have to put up with you gloating over her all day?" She smirked when a grin spread across his face.

"Not **all** day," he answered smugly. "She won't be here **all** day."

"Good morning," Annie announced cheerfully as she stepped through the door and straight for the kitchen and the fresh coffee that awaited her there. "Today is going to be brutal! I have a matinee **and** an evening performance!"

"I don't know," Richard muttered, a sly expression barely visible, "I was just thinking of how great today was going to be."

"Why? Are you-" Annie stopped the comeback abruptly when she remembered the bet she had lost to him the night before. "That's nice," she said with forced glee, through gritted teeth, then added, "Yahtzee! Tonight!"

"I'll be here," he returned flatly. "What time?"

"I should be here by midnight," she informed, heading for the door to leave, taking Caroline's coffee mug filled with coffee with her. "Better practice your vocal scales," she taunted him. "Cause **this** time, I ain't losing!"

"Is that a wisecrack?" he asked, catching her before she stepped out the door.

"No," she shot back, "It's a threat!"

She spun around and stomped away, leaving Richard to shake his head at her antics.

"How sure are you that you're going to win?" Caroline asked him, pouring herself a cup of orange juice before joining him at the desk.

"Against Annie?" he asked arrogantly. "Pretty sure."

"But, it's not a game of skill," she reminded him. "It's a game of chance."

"To **her**," he answered, continuing to work diligently. "There is a skill to it, Caroline, you just have to know what it is."

"And, what is it?" she asked curiously, but he shook his head in response.

"I plan to beat **you** tonight, too," he told her seriously, hiding a smile when he heard her scoff.

"Care to make a little friendly bet then?" she challenged him.

Only daring to steal a quick glance, his eyes dropped to the panel he was coloring as he asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"If **I** win," she wagered, "Then you have to stay here, with me, for the remainder of the pregnancy." His head shot up, eyes locking with hers, total surprise on his face. "You know," she clarified, taken aback by his reaction, "In case I need you for anything."

It was an innocent suggestion, but he could see the potential for problems. Still, he found himself **not** declining, but asking instead, "And if **I** win?"

"If you win?" she semi-repeated, then asked, "Well, what do you want?"

A loaded question, he thought to himself, but outwardly, he said, "I want a say in what you name our son."

"You don't trust in my ability to name our child?" she asked, feigning offense.

"Not after hearing the name Phinneas as an option," he quipped sarcastically.

"Hey, I opted out of that name," she defended herself, smiling.

"Yeah, well," he muttered, seemingly indifferent, "You obviously need my help."

Her smile grew imperceptibly wider as she offered her hand over the desk. "You got yourself a bet!"

**XXX**

--It was a win-win proposition for Caroline, so she didn't care if she lost the game or not. Winning, she would have Richard around her all day every day. Losing, she would get further involvement from him in the form of naming the baby.

But even if she won, she had decided, she was planning on consulting him on baby names, knowing he was interested. She wasn't about to tell him that though. Not yet, anyway.

Richard, she realized, was quite competitive, but in an almost nonchalant kind of way. He was obviously confident in his abilities, so nothing seemed to rattle him. Annie, however, seemed to be on pins and needles all night, actually getting irritated by Richard's lack of emotion.

"If I get a Yahtzee," Annie announced to Richard as she prepared to take her final turn- the final turn of the game, "Then I'll be the winner and you'll be serenading all of Remo's!"

Unfazed, Richard just stared back, which only served to agitate Annie further. She scowled as she shook the cup of dice, almost violently, then dumped them just as harshly. Not one match.

She scooped them up and went again. Two '2's. She groaned, grabbing the three spares and repeating the process. A '3', a '5', and a '6'.

She lost, and she just knew Richard was gloating with that smug self-righteous smirk he loved to wear, so she refused to give him the satisfaction of even looking up at him. Instead, she kept her head down and proceeded to add her score.

"What's the damage?" Caroline asked, and Richard was the first to answer.

"Three hundred nine points," he announced, knowing Annie wasn't even close, but curious to know where Caroline stood.

"Two hundred sixty eight," Annie muttered sourly.

Both Annie and Richard then looked to Caroline, who wore a fast growing smile on her face. "Three hundred **ten** points."

Annie grinned, pleased that at least **someone** beat out Richard, but Richard looked almost amused.

"Ok," he said with a nod of acceptance, "I can bring my clothes over tomorrow. I can bring my easel and paints too, right?"

"Of course you can!" Caroline told him cheerfully. "I want you to feel at home here!"

"Whoa, wait a sec," Annie chimed in, confused. "What are we talking about here?"

"You're not the only one who made a bet here tonight," Caroline explained, watching as Richard stood and headed for the kitchen. "I won, so now Richard is going to stay **here**, until the baby is born."

"What was Richie going to get if **he'd** won?" Annie asked, entertained by the prospects.

"He was going to get a say in what I name the baby," Caroline answered, glancing into the kitchen to see that Richard had poured himself the rest of the coffee from the pot and was now rummaging through the fridge for something.

They both reacted to Annie's laughter in their own subtle ways, Caroline eyeing her friend as she began cleaning up the game mess.

"What's so funny?" she asked, cautious but curious, and Richard groaned as he guessed what was coming.

"You both know what's so funny," Annie snorted, "But since neither of you want me to say anything," she added as she collected the game box and headed for the cupboard it belonged in, "That's all I'm gonna say."

The game safely away, Annie wadded up her score sheet and chucked it at Richard, it bouncing off his head before hitting the floor. "Monopoly!" she challenged him. "Next Friday! Double or nothing!"

Richard glanced down at the assaulting ball of paper before looking over at Annie, an emotionless expression on his face. "How do you **double** me singing at Remo's?"

"An encore performance of _'London Bridges Falling Down'_?" she asked as well as answered, to which Richard rolled his eyes.

"Annie," he chided, "When are you going to let it go? When are you going to admit that I'm just a better game player than you?"

"As soon as you admit your feel-" She stopped abruptly, just in time, as she noticed Richard's eyes grow to three times their normal size. Glancing at Caroline for less than a second, she looked back at Richard, trying to convey an apology wordlessly.

"I promised no wisecracks," she attempted to cover, "So I'll just say goodnight now and leave." She nearly sprinted out the door, desperate to leave her almost colossal mistake behind her, leaving Caroline and Richard alone in the thick tension that continued to linger within the apartment.

There was no mistaking what had just happened. Caroline saw the look between them. She saw the horrified expression leap onto Richard's face. Heard the slight stammering of Annie's words as she babbled before darting out of the apartment.

A huge secret had almost been spilled, and while Caroline wasn't one hundred percent sure what that secret was, she had a pretty good idea that it had to do with Richard's feelings for her. Whether to broach it or leave it alone though, that was the question.

"Did you want me to spend the night tonight?" Richard asked awkwardly, needing to say something as the silence had gone on for too long.

"Yeah," she answered, avoiding eye contact, sensing that he now felt uncomfortable in her presence. "Did you want to go to sleep right away?" she asked, at the ready to jump up and grab his bedding from the hinged-lid coffee table if his answer had been yes.

He shrugged. "I'm flexible," he said as he moved to the sink to rinse his mug. "You?"

"Me?" she asked, confused.

"Did you want to go to bed now?" he asked more specifically.

"Oh." She chuckled, but it sounded strained. "Me too. Flexible."

"Did you want something from the kitchen, while I'm in here?" he asked, silently cursing Annie for causing the stress they were both obviously feeling.

"Do we have any of those pickles left?" she asked, not really wanting them, but trying to find a way to bridge the gap that had formed between them in Annie's wake.

Almost eagerly, he moved towards the fridge, flinging open the door and scanning its contents. "No, you're out," he informed her, immediately adding, "I could go get some, if you want."

"That's ok," she declined the offer, then with a sigh to settle her nerves, patted the couch as she asked of him, "Come sit with me." She was determined to move them past this, by force if necessary.

Slowly, he stepped over, taking a seat cautiously beside her. Once situated, she swung her legs over his and snuggled into his side.

"Richard," she whispered, "We both know Annie almost said something you didn't want known."

His heart began to race in his chest. She could hear it. How could she **not**?

"Let's just forget about that for right now and continue on like we have been, ok?" she suggested, placing her hand over his pounding heart.

He swallowed hard, admitting, "It's hard to continue the charade when the feelings keep getting stronger."

"I know," she smiled, "But, I just think it would be best if we stay focused on the baby. For now."

His arm slipped slowly around her, holding her. "I agree with you," he sighed. "I just said it was hard."

Within seconds, they both started laughing at the unplanned innuendo.

"Sorry," he apologized. "You know that's not what I meant."

She nodded against his chest. "I know. And I know this won't be easy," she added. "But I also know, we **can** do it. Tomorrow morning, we'll forget all about Annie's little slip of the tongue, and about this conversation, and just continue on as we have been. There will be plenty of time after the baby's born to explore this. There's no rush."

"No," he agreed softly, "There's not. This is worth waiting for," he added, holding her a little tighter.

"So, we're in agreement then?" she asked, shifting her position and smiling up at him.

"We are," he nodded, smiling back.

As their eyes locked, Caroline gingerly placed her hand on his face, a million thoughts struggling for supremacy as she inched closer, touching her lips lightly to his. The kiss was almost platonic, only she lingered slightly longer than etiquette would dictate.

When she slowly pulled back, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to be barely breathing.

"Goodnight, Richard," she whispered, and his eyes drifted open at the sound of her voice.

He had to force himself to remain steady. He wanted to rake his fingers through her hair, and kiss her with the passion he had kept hidden for far too long. Instead, he simply whispered, "Goodnight, Caroline."

Climbing off his lap, she retrieved his bedding, handed it over to him, then ascended the stairs to her room without saying another word.

His heart still raced, and he briefly wondered if it would ever slow to normal. Knowing sleep would never find him in his current state of mind, he opted not to even try. He needed to talk. To hash things out. He needed a third party perspective. He needed Annie.

Inwardly, he groaned as that thought hit his brain, but as much as he despised admitting it, he knew it was true. There was no one else he could talk to, and he **needed** to talk.

Resigned, he pushed off the couch and stepped quietly towards the door, only glancing in the direction of her room briefly before walking out into the hall.

A sliver of light was visible from under her door, answering his silent wonderings of whether or not Annie would still be awake. The knuckle of one finger was all he used to knock with, not wanting to disturb her if she **had** gone to bed, but knowing if she hadn't, she would hear it.

The locks unlatched almost immediately, but the chain remained in place as the door slowly opened.

"Richie? What's up?" she asked, side-stepping to hide all but her head when she remembered she was in nothing but a skimpy pajama top and underpants.

"I need to talk to someone, and in the absence of a paid professional," he quipped, "You'll have to do."

With a smirk, she gave a gentle nod. "Just give me a sec," she said, then closed the door. Less than 30 seconds later, he heard the chain slide before the door flew open.

Entering when she gestured for him to, he noticed in passing that she was now wearing a robe cinched closed with a sash around her waist.

"I'm sorry about before," she apologized after closing her door. "I tried to cover. Did she notice?"

Richard rolled his eyes. "She's not dead, Annie, she's pregnant," he shot back sarcastically, adding, "She noticed."

"So, what happened?" she asked, sitting on the couch and silently requesting he do the same.

"She wants to pretend nothing happened," he said as he took a seat next to her. "She wants to focus on the pregnancy for now, and deal with whatever else later, after the baby's born."

"Isn't that what you want too?" she asked, confused by the slight agitation that seemed to edge his tone.

"Yes and no," he returned with a sigh.

"Yes and no?" she questioned him. "Which part yes and which part no?"

"Yes, **before**," he explained, exasperated. "Before, she didn't know about my feelings for her! I could keep them hidden because I was hiding them from **her**! Now that she knows, I'm not so sure that I can."

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I didn't mean to tell her."

"It's not entirely your fault," he told her, releasing her from total responsibility. "I've been slipping up a lot lately."

Arching an eyebrow, she asked, "How so?"

"Just, little things. Dropping my guard-" He shook his head. "It's not important. But, **now**, I have to go on pretending? Act like nothing's changed? While we both know it has?" He sighed heavily, slumping forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "I'm not good at 'acting'."

"I don't know," Annie countered. "You've been pretty good at it up till now."

He shot her a glare in response. "That wasn't acting," he told her sharply. "That was self preservation."

She laughed, stopping abruptly when he shot her another less than amused look. "Richie," she said to him, moving on, "I think you're over thinking this. **Before**, you were trying to hide your feelings. Why, I don't know," she added quickly, then continued, "But **now**, the truth has set you free, so to speak. You don't have to pretend you're **not** in love with her! You just have to wait to **act** on it!"

That thought hadn't occurred to him. He didn't have to hide his feelings for her anymore, because she already knew about them. He wouldn't have to quickly look away to avoid being caught staring at her, or jump away from her touch to avoid reacting to it. There was at least a hundred different ways he could show he cared for her- show her the promises of things to come- without breaking the pact of waiting till after the baby was born to explore their relationship.

The possibilities raced inside his brain, bringing with it, a slight smile to his face.

"What's that smile for?" Annie asked, smiling as well.

"It'll be similar to courting," he answered, explaining where his thoughts had just been.

"Courting?" she laughed. "What is this, the 1800's?"

Smirking back at her, he asked, "Is that a wisecrack?"

That stupid bet, she thought to herself, then shot back, "No! It's late! I'm tired! I just forgot what century we're currently in!"

He rolled his eyes and 'humph'ed at her lame attempt at covering her slipup, then moved to stand.

"It **is** late," he acknowledged, heading for the door, Annie right behind him.

"We're still on for Friday, right?" she asked, and he nodded.

"If you can stand another beating," he quipped, then added seriously, "Thank you, Annie."

"You're welcome," she said as she stepped up to hug him. He grew stiff as she wrapped her arms around him, and she laughed when he did. "It's called a hug, Richie! Now, you wrap your arms around me," she teased, and he rolled his eyes in response.

"I know what a hug is," he groaned, "I just wasn't expecting to get one from **you**."

"Well," she reasoned, "We're friends now. And that's what friends do!"

"Do we have to?" he quipped as he pulled away, and she promptly but playfully smacked him.

"Shut up," she snipped jokingly, opening her door and pointing out into the hall. "And get out of my apartment."

He smirked as he stepped out and headed across to Caroline's.

**TBC**

Author's note:

Hate my word processor! And it looks like I won't be getting the new one till Friday or Monday next week. Sigh.

Ok, so, how about giving this sad author a little love and leaving a review, eh? It would cheer me up!

MTLBYAKY


	7. Chapter 7

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 7**

**XXX**

--The bright midmorning sun streaked through the bedroom window, gently rousing Caroline from her sleep. Thoughts of Richard immediately assaulted her, bringing both a smile to her face and tears to her eyes.

The conversation that had taken place only hours before was of great significance, and that fact certainly didn't escape her attention. Basically, without saying the words, they both had admitted their mutual feelings for one another.

They would focus on the pregnancy first, then after their son was born...

She shivered at the thought of it. Of kissing him, holding him, touching him as they made love. It would be like a form of torture, waiting months to be with him, but it was the way Richard wanted it. Annie had told her that in a round-about way. So, she would have to be strong. And patient. And sexually frustrated.

A frown appeared near instantly. Pregnancy was making her randy, which according to the book, was completely normal. But normal or not, it was frustrating beyond all reason.

There was this gorgeous man who cared for her, and her for him, yet they could do nothing more than--

Than, what? Hold hands? Smile fondly at each other? Where should the line be drawn, she wondered. What was acceptable and unacceptable behavior? Would she be allowed to touch him? Hug him? Kiss him like she did before they both said goodnight?

God how she wanted to kiss him. It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, pulling away from him after their lips melded so perfectly together, but she knew if she had lingered even one second longer, she would have taken it too far.

The look on his face told her he'd felt the same way.

"Caroline?"

The sound of his voice instantly started her heart racing.

"Upstairs," she called back, pulling herself into a sitting position. His footfalls on the stairs, coming closer, actually excited her.

"Can I come in?" he asked through the door, and she took a deep breath to settle her nerves before answering.

In moments, they would be face to face. Should she act differently? Would he? "Yeah. Come on in."

The door creaked open, and he peeked inside, probably to be sure she was decent, before entering.

"You're still in bed?" he asked her, even though the answer was obvious.

"I'm awake," she told him, curbing her defensive tone, "Just resting."

Nodding, he gestured to the bed, requesting permission to sit, and she gestured back in approval.

"Rest is good," he offered lamely as he sat cautiously at the foot and on the edge of the bed. "You know," he added nervously, "For you and the baby." There was an awkward air that accompanied the brief pause before he finally informed her, "I brought my stuff over. It's downstairs."

"Already?" she asked, surprised.

"I got an early start," he explained. "Pretty much at dawn," he added, pushing his glasses to the top of his head, like he usually did in times of frustration. "I couldn't really sleep anyway."

"Sorry about that," she apologized, feeling at least partially responsible for why he couldn't. She just assumed he did as well.

"Why are **you** sorry?" he asked, a bit thrown by the apology. "It's not **your** fault."

"Isn't it?" she asked, the implication in her words and tone clear.

Sighing, he looked to the floor. She wasn't to blame for his insomnia, and at most, was only indirectly responsible for it, since it was **she** he thought of non-stop while staring at her ceiling. "No," he assured her. "It wasn't anything **you** did, my brain just wouldn't shut down."

"Can I ask," she questioned cautiously, "What had your brain so preoccupied?"

"Do you really want to know?" he asked, initiating eye contact, silently requesting permission to speak freely.

Even knowing the conversation that awaited her on the other side of her answer, she said softly to him, "Yeah. I think I do."

He considered his response carefully for a moment, before eventually telling her, "You. Our conversation. The situation we now find ourselves in. Our future. Our child."

"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the bedsheet. "Me too." And that was the God's honest truth. Every subject he had just mentioned more than just flitted through her mind as well, over the past several hours specifically.

"Come up with any solutions?" he asked, following her gaze to the flower pattern spattered about the blanket she was tucked under. Sweaty palms was the only sign of the anxiety he was feeling, nervous over the possible answers she was about to give him.

"Not really," she replied, almost relieved, in a way, that he was feeling as lost as she was in the wake of their relationship changing heart-to-heart. "Just more questions," she added softly.

"Yeah," he muttered, sympathetic, since he too had been faced with the same dilemma. "So," he then suggested, as if confident, "Maybe we should break the pact for just a few minutes and discuss it?" His palms were pouring like faucets.

"Maybe we should." She agreed with him in words, but not in tone. Inside, she was shaking, unsure of herself as they embarked on a journey of uncertainty. "You go first," she then told him, which caused him to laugh, though she wasn't sure why. "What's so funny?"

Laughter spilled out of him more from nervousness than anything else, so he shook his head to dismiss it rather than attempt to explain it.

Bringing his glasses back down into position, then staring back at her with all the seriousness the subject deserved, he shared his thoughts. "I still think it's a good idea to wait until after our son is born, to start up any kind of in-depth relationship. **But**, to pretend like there's nothing between us, I don't think that's the answer, either."

"So, then, where does that leave us?" she asked hesitantly, not really gaining much more from his declaration than what had already been established.

"It leaves us in a sort of limbo, doesn't it?" he answered with a question, and even though it was meant rhetorically, she nodded all the same.

"We need to decide," he continued, the same self-assured tone hiding his trepidation, "Now, while we're level headed and thinking clearly, what we can and can't do."

When he paused, Caroline assumed it was so that he could get his thoughts together. That, however, turned out to be a wrong assumption.

"Ok," he said, gesturing to her, "You go."

Shock and surprise registered across her face, bringing a tiny grin to Richard's, before he checked it and wiped it away, gaining seriousness once again.

"Oh, sure," she forced a chuckle, "Leave me with the hard part!"

With a half smile, he cocked his head slightly as a sort of apology.

"Ok, well," she stammered nervously, blushing, "We obviously can't do, you know, the big thing, that, you know, most couples do."

"Sex, Caroline," he said, completely unfazed. "It's called sex. You can use the word. We're both adults."

Blushing an even deeper shade of red, she smiled shyly, looking away. "Right, sex. We can't do that," she said, finding anything and everything else in the room to focus on besides him.

"It would probably be ok to kiss," she continued, very aware of how uneasy she was feeling. "I mean, I would really like to be able to kiss you. We would just have to be careful that it didn't lead to--"

"Sex?" he asked, when she left the sentence incomplete.

"Yeah," she agreed, fidgeting.

"What about holding hands?" he asked, trying to help her through the embarrassment she was obviously feeling.

She smiled gratefully. "Yeah, that would be ok."

"And, how about snuggling up on the couch with my arm around you?" he continued, noticing her look of appreciation at his assistance.

"Yeah," she whispered, almost dreamily. "I would like that."

"So, basically," he ventured, "It'll be like we're on a very long, extended second date?"

"Yeah," she agreed, finally risking eye contact again; they both smiled at one-another as their eyes met.

"Ok," he said with a firm nod, then moved to stand. For a moment, Caroline thought he was going to leave, but he had no intention of doing so just yet.

He side-stepped a couple feet, then sat back down, leaning in and pressing his fist into the mattress on the opposite side of her, supporting his weight above her.

"You would really like to be able to kiss me?" he asked, repeating her earlier words, and she choked back a gasp as she nodded.

Taking that as his cue, he finished the distance between them, slowly touching his lips to hers. Like the time before, it wasn't much more than platonic, to begin with, but mere seconds into the soft kiss, it turned into something else.

His hand grazed her cheek before moving to wind into her untamed hair, deepening his affection when her hand slid past his shoulders and into his wavy locks.

Responding noticeably, he eased up, brushing his lips against hers one last time before pulling back and staring deeply into her slowly opening eyes.

"We should stop now, before we can't," he suggested breathlessly, and she nodded slightly in response.

"I went to the store," he changed the subject, pushing off the bed and standing to leave. "I got you more pickles, and a muffin for breakfast."

"Sounds good," she whispered, then cleared her throat in an attempt to find her voice. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

He smiled back at her before turning to leave, and she watched him walk out the door before flinging her blanket over her head, hiding herself as she began kicking and flailing like a small child who just got a much wanted toy for Christmas.

She wanted to scream, dance, shout hallelujah to God above, but she knew with him just downstairs, that she could do none of those things.

Instead, she composed herself, threw the blankets off and aside, and sprinted towards the bathroom to get dressed.

Richard smiled as he descended the stairs, it growing wider with every step he took. When he got to the last step, he hopped off, putting his fists in mid-air and pulling them quickly to his sides as he exclaimed in a whisper, "**Yes**!"

Kissing her was like a dream. Like so many dreams he'd had, only better. This time, he didn't wake up to find himself shivering in his poorly insulated, critter infested apartment.

"Coffee," Annie groaned, dragging her feet as she immediately headed for the kitchen upon entering.

"Help yourself," Richard said somewhat cordially, moving towards the livingroom with the Sunday newspaper and his own mug of coffee in his hands.

"Oooh," Annie cooed, pointing at the counter. "Muffins?"

"Muff**in**," Richard corrected, "And it's Caroline's, so don't touch it."

"Fine," she muttered, the short-lived smile dropping from her face. "I guess I'll just have cereal then. Where is Caroline anyway?" she added, heading for the pantry.

"Getting dressed," he answered simply, and with disinterest.

"Uhn! What the hell is this?" she asked snippily, pulling a box from off the cupboard shelf and holding it up for Richard to see.

Glancing at her for less than a second, he answered plainly and without emotion, "Cereal."

"This isn't cereal," she whined. "It's bark and twigs and berries!"

"It's healthy," he informed her flatly, his attention more on the art section of the paper than on her.

"Ugh!" she groaned, "I can't eat this!"

"Then don't eat it," he muttered, now slightly annoyed with her.

"I'll be so glad when Caroline has this baby and we can go back to eating pop tarts for breakfast!" she announced, sliding the unwanted cereal box back onto the pantry shelf and flinging the door closed. He only hummed in response.

"Guess I'll just have coffee then," she mumbled to herself, mostly, then proceeded to pour herself a cup. "So, Richie," she said as she joined him in the livingroom, "Good talk last night."

He glanced back at her briefly before turning his attention back to the black and white print, muttering, "Uh-huh."

"So, have you talked to her yet this morning?" she asked nosily, unaware that their conversation was now being listened in on.

"We spoke," he replied casually, hoping his tone would deter her from the subject she was attempting to start.

"And?" she needled him for more information.

"And, what?" he asked, unyielding.

"**And**, what did you guys decide on?" When he only rolled his eyes in response, she tried a different approach. "You **know** Caroline's gonna tell me everything anyway! You might as well tell me **your** side of it!"

"If you **must** know," he said with an exasperated sigh, reluctant still, "We decided to wait on anything too serious, but we can still show affection."

"I don't know," she warned in a sing-song tone of voice, "**Affection** can turn into **more** pretty easily."

"She doesn't want more," he told her, turning the page of his newspaper sharply and pretending to still be interested in it. "She wants to wait until after the baby is born. And I can respect that. I'm willing to wait," he added, shaking the paper pointedly in the hope that would take the hint and drop the subject.

"**Willing** to wait?" she asked him, smirking at his choice of words. "By that can I assume that, if Caroline wanted to, you guys would be going full-board right away?"

"If by **that** you mean, start a deep and meaningful relationship, then yes. But it doesn't matter what I want," he added quickly, "Because it's **her** decision."

"Why just **hers**," she asked him seriously. "Why do **you** think she wants to wait?"

"Because, she's the one who's pregnant," he shot back, with rapidly thinning patience. "And, I don't know," he continued shortly, "Maybe she thinks it would be too emotional for her to delve into a serious relationship while dealing with all the hormonal changes her body is going through!" His irritation was apparent as he shook the pages of the newspaper to fold them and slapped it down on the coffee table.

He met her eyes, ready for further confrontation, but found only compassion in them.

"It's not for me to question her," he said, much calmer now. "She must have her reasons."

"But," Annie suggested, "What if her reasons are based on misinformation?"

Confusion flitted across his face, but when he opened his mouth to reply, Caroline's voice filled the room instead.

"Hey, Annie! I thought I heard your voice!"

Richard and Annie both jumped dramatically, causing Caroline to laugh in response.

"What's gotten into you guys?" she asked, knowing full well what had, but not wanting them to know she had been eavesdropping.

"You just startled us." Richard offered the excuse, glancing at Annie briefly before adding, "Your breakfast is on the counter."

When she saw the muffin sitting on the little plate, on the counter next to a small glass of orange juice, she smiled over at him, touched. "Is this-?"

"Apple cinnamon," he interrupted and answered, smiling in return.

"My favorite," she whispered as she placed her hand to her heart.

"I know," he said, glaring at Annie when she made a gagging sound.

"He told me I couldn't touch it," Annie tattled on Richard, joining her friend in the kitchen and hovering expectantly over her.

Chuckling, Caroline broke off a piece and handed it to her, and Annie stuck her tongue out at Richard as she accepted it. He only rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the art section of the paper once again.

"So," Annie asked, popping the muffin chunk into her mouth and following Caroline out to the livingroom, "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Nothing," Caroline mumbled her answer as she chewed. "Why?"

"I'm bored!" she announced. "Let's go to the movies or something!"

"The movies might be fun," Caroline answered in agreement, then turned to look at Richard.

Without a sound, without looking up, without even waiting for the question to officially be asked, Richard began to shake his head purposefully.

"You don't want to go?" Caroline asked him, but his response continued in the form of his head deliberately moving from side to side. "Would you mind if I went?"

His head still shook in response.

"Guess it's just you and me," she told Annie, taking another bite of her muffin before snatching what remained of the newspaper off the coffee table, which was everything but the art section, and tossing it over to her. "I'm gonna go get my shoes."

Discreetly, Richard watched Caroline as she headed up to her room. As soon as he was sure that she was safely out of hearing range, he dropped the paper from his face and hissed at Annie.

"What misinformation?" he whispered harshly, knowing he had maybe a minute before Caroline would return.

"I sorta told her- Without telling her you'd said it," she added quickly in her defense, "That you wanted to wait until after she gives birth to start up anything."

Following an irritated sigh, he shot back, "So much for keeping secrets!"

"I didn't tell her **you** said it!" she repeated huffily.

"You **implied** it!" he snapped quietly. "You may as well have!"

"What's the big deal?" she asked, still whispering, annoyed with his attitude. "Just tell her you changed your mind!"

"I can't do that!" he exclaimed.

She scoffed, asking, "Why not?"

"Because, I don't know that I have, ok?" Sighing heavily, he looked away.

Confused, she asked, "Then, what's the problem?"

"I wanted it to evolve naturally, Annie! I wanted us to decide together, when the time came, to take that next step! Now, she thinks I want to wait! Even if she's ready to-- even if we're **both** ready to, she's going to hold that back!"

"Wait a minute," she partially interrupted. "You're all over the map here. Do you or do you **not** want to wait till after she gives birth?"

"I don't know anymore. Part of me wants to wait, but part of **that** decision was based on the not-so-factual fact that **Caroline** wanted to wait!"

"And what are the other parts based on?" she asked curiously, sincerely interested in knowing.

"Hormones, for one," he told her as he stole a glance in the direction of Caroline's bedroom.

"And for two?" she asked.

"I don't want her to make love to me, just because she's--"

"Horny?" Annie asked, finishing his sentence for him. He rolled his eyes before nodding slightly.

"I want her to make love to me because she **wants** to be with me, not just as a quick fix to a temporary problem."

"Caroline would **never** use you like that," Annie defended her friend.

"I know she wouldn't **use** me, Annie," he corrected with a sigh. "I don't expect you to understand," he added, a sad lilt to his tone.

"Try me," she offered.

"She's pregnant with **my** child," he opened up immediately. "She's hormonal! She's… sexually charged. What if all those things clouds her judgment? I know she wouldn't **knowingly** use me, but, what if she **thinks** she's feeling **one** thing, then later, after those elements are gone, decides she wasn't feeling what she thought she was feeling after all?" He rolled his eyes as he realized, "I sound like a blithering idiot!"

"No you don't," she assured him. "You sound like a man with doubts. And low self esteem. You should give yourself more credit than this, Richie! You're a catch! She's not going to decide later that it was just the pregnancy hormones! Trust me on this."

"I wish I could be as sure," he near whispered, emotionally drained.

"Look, you need to talk to her," she advised, then asked, almost teasingly, "You're allowed to talk in this little pact of yours, right?" He glared his answer.

"Confide in her!" she told him firmly. "She's a great listener. And, she always has great advice for me! I don't always take it," she added with a snort of amusement, "But it's still good advice."

"Find any good movies?" Caroline called from upstairs, and she heard rustling newspapers before Annie responded.

"Still looking! Hurry up already!"

Caroline swiped at her tears as she worked up the cheeriest voice she could muster. "K! Be right down!"

He was hurting, she could hear it in his voice. She wanted to go to him. Hold him. Assure him that these feelings for him started **long** before the pregnancy. But she knew he would be upset with her, if he knew she had been listening in on his private conversation with Annie.

You'll just have to pretend like nothing's changed, she told herself, grabbing her tennis shoes and tying them quickly.

Annie had advised him to talk to her. She would just have to wait and see if he would.

"I decided to go comfy and wear tennies," Caroline announced as she descended the stairs with a bounce in her step. "You sure you don't want to go?" she asked Richard again, discreetly trying to gauge his mood.

"Very," he insisted, his nose buried in the newspaper.

"What are you going to do today?" she asked him, partly curious, partly trying to gain more than the previous one word answer he gave her.

"Paint," he answered simply, without hesitation. Then asked as he lowered the paper slightly and looked over it at her, "Where can I set up my easel?"

"Just push the stair-stepper into the corner and put it there," she suggested, smiling when his eyes finally locked with hers.

He smiled back, but then lifted the paper once again, obscuring him from her sight. "Have fun."

"You, too," she said as she took a step towards him.

"Nothing's funner than smearing black paint on canvas," Annie muttered, heading for the door, unaware that both Caroline and Richard were glaring at her.

Turning to face him once again, she waited until he sensed her eyes on him and looked up, then she smiled, before leaning in and kissing his lips. A brief modest show of affection.

"I'll see'ya later," she whispered when their lips parted. "Maybe we can watch a movie tonight," she suggested in a low tone, both seductive and secretive. "Do some of that, snuggling up with your arms around me stuff."

Glancing past her to see that Annie was pretending to be busy by the door first, he whispered back, "Sounds nice."

"Tick tock, Caroline," Annie huffed, after clearing her throat to get their attention.

Reluctantly, Caroline turned away from Richard and followed Annie out the door.

**TBC**

K! Got my new word program! Got me a new laptop too! Gotta love those helpful relatives that believe in your talent, right?

Ok, so, hoping to be able to update a bit quicker now with future chapters, but I can't promise it. My life is chuck-full of fun and crap and such. Will do my best though!

Now, do your best to make me happy and review, please!

MTLBYAKY


	8. Chapter 8

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 8**

**XXX**

--Guilt gnawed at Caroline all the way to the theater. She only half-listened as Annie rambled on about various subjects, like her latest date and conquest, the jerk producer at 'Cats', and the weird chin hair she was forever plucking.

Muttering answers like 'yeah', 'ok', and 'that sucks' when the conversation seemed to warrant it only appeased Annie for so long, however, and by the time they got to the concession stand, she was keenly aware that something was amiss.

"You ok?" Annie asked as she rifled through her wallet for cash. "You seem down."

Caroline sighed, feeling as if she might explode if she didn't unload her emotional burden.

"I have a confession to make," she told Annie, already feeling the burn of shame on her cheeks.

"Oooh," Annie perked up. "What did you do?"

"I heard the conversation you had with Richard this morning," she admitted. "Both of them," she added, dropping her eyes to the filthy carpet beneath their feet.

Annie tsked her, scolding her teasingly. "Eavesdropping? You?"

"Annie, don't," Caroline requested of her friend, adding, "I feel bad enough as it is."

Annie eased up, asking, "Well, so, what do we think about what we heard?"

"**We** think I messed up big time!" she answered, slightly distraught.

"What?" Annie asked, surprised. "Why would you think that?"

"He's in pain, Annie!" she exclaimed in a hushed tone. "And I'm the cause of it!"

Annie shook her head. "He's just confused."

"The confusion is causing him pain!" Caroline countered. "And I'm the reason for his confusion!"

"You're not the reason for it!" Annie told her firmly, stepping forward when the line moved. "The confusion just **involves** you! And that is in **no way** your fault!"

"I should've just talked to him, Annie," she lamented. "I should've just told him how I was feeling! Instead of playing games!"

"He's playing them too, Hun," Annie offered consolingly.

"Because he doesn't know which end is up! Because of me!" she shot back, her voice rising. "Does she only like me cause she's hormonal? Does she only like me cause she's sexually frustrated?" she asked no one, acting out Richard's side of an unhad conversation. "If I had just told him how I feel **before** I got pregnant!"

"Did you know **before**?" Annie asked, ignoring the stares from the people around them.

Caroline hesitated before answering, considering her words carefully. "I had an inkling," she admitted. "Nothing I could quite put my finger on at the time, but, looking back, I think I've known for a while."

"Did you know when you agreed to use his sperm?" Annie asked, then glared at the man in front of them when he glanced back in shock. "Is this **your** conversation?" she challenged him, and he quickly turned away, eyes forward once again.

"I think there was a part of me that knew," Caroline murmured softly. "I think-- I wanted a piece of him to always be with me."

"Oh, sweetie," Annie whispered, empathetic, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to make fun of me. Or try to talk me out of it," she answered as she looked away.

"What would you have done, if Richard had never wanted involvement?" Annie questioned her, abandoning the snack line and dragging Caroline with her.

"I was prepared for that," Caroline assured her. "I never dreamt he **would** want involvement! I just figured that, at some point, he would drift out of my life, and when he did, I would still have a connection to him through his child."

"Is that the **only** reason you did this?" Annie asked her with an intense seriousness that actually surprised Caroline.

"Of course not!" Caroline returned defensively. "I've always wanted to be a mom! I did this, first and foremost, because I want a child! The other- the piece of Richard thing, didn't occur to me until **after** we had already discussed it and agreed on the terms. Later that same night."

"And your feelings for him?" Annie asked cautiously.

"Since Del proposed," Caroline choked out, tears splashing past her cheeks and straight to the floor as her head dropped. "Since you told me he had a thing for me, when we were at Remo's," she added. "But I only realized that **after** I became pregnant." Accepting the napkin Annie handed to her, that she had retrieved from off the counter nearby, she dabbed at the wet on her cheeks. "I was in denial before that," she sniffled.

"C'mon," Annie said as she put her arm around Caroline's shoulders. "You're in no condition to see a movie. Let's go somewhere where we can talk, k?"

Caroline nodded weakly, allowing her friend to lead her away and out the door.

**X**

--They found a table in the far back of the little out-of-the-way coffeehouse, wanting privacy for the conversation that was about to take place. Still crying, Caroline allowed Annie to lead the way and guide her, ignoring the stares from the other patrons.

"Her parakeet just died!" she snipped at the gawking people seated at a nearby table, and they quickly turned away at her outburst.

"Just ignore them, sweetie," Annie told her, pulling out a chair and directing her to sit in it.

"I don't care about them," Caroline muttered, dropping into her seat like a ragdoll.

"I know," Annie soothed, taking a seat across from her. "You have bigger things on your mind," she added, and Caroline nodded as she exchanged the used napkin she had been carrying with her since the movie theater, with one from the dispenser on the table they had just begun occupying.

"Start at the beginning," Annie suggested, and Caroline nodded once again.

"I wasn't sure of anything, before, at the time," she began, her thoughts scattered. "It's like, there was this film over my eyes, and I just couldn't see any of it clearly! But then, suddenly, this light bulb went on in my head, and everything- even everything from before- became clear."

Annie kind of knew what she was trying to say, but needed a little more structure to the random thoughts. "Ok, start with the light bulb," Annie suggested. "When did that go on?"

"The night the baby had the hiccups," she answered. "When the light went on, it was just **so** overwhelming! I was sobbing. Panicking. Almost hyperventilating! When he started hiccupping, I thought something was really wrong. I thought **I** caused it."

"Why were you panicking?"

"I'm in love with Richard, Annie," Caroline sighed, "And I think I have been ever since the day I accepted Del's marriage proposal. I was in denial at the time, but after the light bulb- when I look back- I was jealous!"

"Jealous of what?" Annie asked, confused, her friend's incomplete and choppy sentences hard to follow.

"I went to Richard's apartment, after I left Remo's- after you told me that Richard had a thing for me. He wasn't alone," she whispered sadly. "There was a woman there. Neither one of them was completely dressed."

"Oh my God!" Annie exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"I was embarrassed," she said, her tone matching her words. "I think he was, too. He was hiding her in the closet. I found her on accident."

"On accident?"

"She had lit up a cigarette, and the smoke was pouring out. I thought his closet was on fire, so I of course opened the door."

Annie laughed at the mental image in her head. "Then what happened?"

Caroline shrugged. "I left. But, then," she remembered almost fondly, "The weirdest thing. Richard ran after me, to give me an umbrella. Cause it was raining. He said he had something to tell me, and it seemed important, until he told me to try another block up if I wanted to hail a cab."

"Spineless," Annie muttered. "Sweetie, don't you see? You were in denial for so long, cause he never gave you reason to hope! Any time you'd see a glimmer of something, he would yank it away and throw you back into confusion! It's his cowardice that has created his pain! Not **you**! Or anything **you** did!"

"It's not **all** his fault, Annie," she weakly scolded, her tears finally slowing.

"Maybe not **all**," Annie reluctantly admitted, "But it certainly isn't all **your** fault, either!"

Caroline shook her head. "I want to tell him the truth, but I don't come off too good in that version, and I don't want to lose him."

"You're not going to lose him, sweetie, trust me," she stated reassuringly. "He has skeletons in his closet, too!"

"I don't suppose you could tell me what they are," she asked meekly, but Annie shook her head in response.

"But Richard should," Annie announced, throwing a tip on the table and grabbing Caroline's hand. "C'mon!"

"Where are we going, Annie?" Caroline asked, thrown by the sudden flurry of movement.

"This has gone on long enough!" Annie shot back over her shoulder, dragging Caroline out of the coffee place and down the street, in the direction of home.

**X**

--Annie barged through the door, Caroline in tow, almost as if she was dragging her along unwillingly, and Richard startled at the disruption.

He turned from his painting abruptly, surprised to see them home so soon, Annie looking determined, Caroline looking sheepish.

"What's going on?" Richard asked, setting his brush and palette down and stepping towards them, slightly concerned.

"Spineless jellyfish time is over!" Annie announced, gently forcing Caroline to take a seat on the couch. "C'mon," she then told Richard. "It's family therapy time!"

Unmoving, his eyes narrowed as he looked back at her. "What are you doing?"

"Something that should've been done a long time ago!" she shot back, pointing at the couch. "Now sit!"

Shaking his head, he looked away, muttering, "I'm not playing your little game, Annie."

"She thinks she's the cause of your self-inflicted anguish, Richard!" she snapped at him, and his eyes moved from her to Caroline, then back again.

"What are you talking about?" he asked cautiously, noting Annie once again used his actual name, and not her nickname for him.

"She overheard us talking this morning," she told him, ignoring the shocked look he threw at Caroline and continuing. "She heard the pain in your voice, and she thinks **she's** the cause of it! And we both know that's not true, don't we, Richard?" When he looked away guiltily, she knew she was reaching him.

"You guys are about to have a child together!" she exclaimed, glancing from one to the other. "Don't you think it's time to stop playing games?"

After a moment of reflection, Richard sighed and moved to join Caroline on the couch, sliding his hand into hers when she offered it to him.

"Good," Annie said, sitting on the chair across from them and taking charge. "Richard, we're gonna start with you."

He glanced at Annie briefly before turning his head in Caroline's direction, his eyes just shy of meeting hers. "You're not the cause of my pain, Caroline," he told her softly. "I'm in pain because of my own doubts and fears."

"What doubts? What fears?" Caroline asked, squeezing his hand in gentle encouragement.

"That I'll screw something up and lose you," he explained. "Or hurt you somehow."

"Richard," she whispered, "You would never hurt me. You're the gentlest man I know."

"I don't mean physically," he corrected her, and she shook her head in response.

"Neither do I," she returned, smiling back at him when his eyes finally met hers.

"Now that this is a reality," he continued, "My brain is trying to torment me, with all the possible scenarios for how you could never love me. Like, that, it's just the pregnancy hormones. Or because you are, sexually charged."

"Caroline," Annie interjected, "Now would be a good time to tell him what we were talking about before. The day Del proposed?" she reminded, and Caroline nodded.

"I didn't really realize it, until somewhat recently," Caroline began, "But, I've had feelings for you, since the day Del proposed. I went to your apartment, remember?"

It took a moment to access the memory, but when he did, he whispered her name. "Maddie."

"Maddie," Caroline repeated, and Richard sighed as he hung his head in shame.

She was a middle-aged supervisor at the employment agency he had gone to, who only used him for sex so she could feel better about herself in the wake of her failed marriage. He only slept with her in an attempt to ease his pain, his soul cut to the very quick after learning of Del's proposal, and knowing Caroline was considering it.

"You came out into the rain, to give me an umbrella, and to tell me something," Caroline continued. "It wasn't about hailing a cab, was it?" she asked him, and he shook his head slowly in answer. "What were you really going to say to me?"

"I was going to ask you not to marry Del," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I was going to tell you everything," he added solemnly.

With a sad sigh, her eyes dropped to her lap, asking, "Why didn't you?"

"I was afraid," he admitted. "Afraid that you wouldn't feel the same way, and it would be awkward between us. That I would subsequently lose you as a friend."

"Tell him about the light bulb," Annie suggested, pointing at Caroline when Richard looked back at her in confusion.

"I was in denial before," Caroline told him, "Until… It was like this light bulb went on inside my brain, and it all became so clear!"

Curiously, nervously, he asked, "What did?"

"How I feel about you," she answered. "How I've felt about you, for all this time."

"And, when did this light bulb moment occur?" he asked.

"The day the baby had the hiccups," she told him. "Before I knew what it was, I thought I had caused it. I was crying pretty hard-"

"Why were you crying?" he interrupted her.

"I was overwhelmed. I couldn't believe the level of denial I had been in, up till that moment."

"And guess why she was in denial," Annie chimed in, and they both looked over at her. "She was in denial, because every time she had reason to **hope**, **you** would do something to dash it!"

"Annie," Caroline scolded weakly, unsure of how Richard would handle an attack at that moment.

"He knows I'm right!" she shot back defensively, staring pointedly at Richard. "Don't'cha, Richie?"

He nodded slowly, adding, "But I didn't realize that's what I was doing. I was in a form of denial, too."

"What were **you** denying?" Caroline asked him.

"That you could ever feel the same way about me," he answered, holding her hand just a little tighter, attempting to gain comfort from the simple contact. "I wasn't trying to dash your hopes," he told her. "I was trying to protect myself from looking foolish. And from possibly losing the best friend I've ever had."

"Ok, so, what have we learned, boys and girls?" Annie asked rhetorically, sounding something like a neurotic third grade teacher who was addressing her class. "Richie here has been pining for you since pretty much the first day he started working here," she summed it up for Caroline, "He was just too chicken to say anything! And Caroline," she said to Richard, "Has had feelings for **you** for almost as long, she just didn't realize it till the baby started hiccupping!"

Richard and Caroline both smirked at Annie's attempt at humor.

"So," Annie concluded, "You like **her**," she said to Richard, "You like **him**," she said to Caroline, "Hormones have nothing to do with it," she added in general, "And my work here is done!" Pushing off the chair, she immediately headed for the door. "Please feel free to keep talking after I'm gone," she told them before leaving. "Although why you would want to **talk** when there's a perfectly good bed upstairs is beyond me!"

The door slammed shut behind her, and Richard rolled his eyes when it did.

"Everything goes back to sex with her," he muttered, sarcasm hiding just beneath the surface of his tone. "She probably thinks a roll in the hay cures cancer."

Caroline laughed, then turned better to face him. "You want to keep talking?" she asked him, smiling almost shyly.

"I don't know how much more my heart can take right now," he said as he brought her hand up to the pounding in his chest. "It feels like it's going to burst through and race around the room," he added, taking a shaky breath to steady himself.

"Mine too," she admitted, rubbing her swollen belly. "Baby hates it when I get worked up like this," she added, prompting him to place his hand on hers. She then slid her hand out from under his, taking him by the wrist and relocating his hand to where the movement was strongest.

"Can I ask you a question?" she whispered after several moments of silence.

"Of course," he whispered back.

"Honestly," she prefaced, "Why did you give me your sperm?"

"There were several reasons, that came up, all in the course of several minutes," he answered haltingly, wanting to word his response carefully. "At first, it was to save my job."

"Save your job?" she asked, confused.

"Annie convinced me that you were looking to hire Jeannie back," he explained, "Which would have left me jobless."

"I wasn't planning on hiring Jeannie back," she told him, to put his mind at ease.

"I know that **now**," he quipped, then continued. "Then, I was trying to save you from giving birth to the spawn of idiot-slash-ax murderer guy."

Caroline laughed. "And I thank you for that."

"You're welcome," he returned with a slight bow of his head. "Then," he admitted, "I did it, to make you happy."

Touched, she whispered his name, asking, "You were willing to do that, just to make me happy?"

Nodding, he whispered back, "That and more."

"Was there any part of you," she asked cautiously, "That did it for the connection between us?"

"Not at first," he answered immediately, surprising her, "But later, I did think of that." When she started to tear up, he held her hand in both of his. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly, intently studying her expression.

"I thought I was alone in that," she whimpered. "I was so afraid to tell you that."

"Tell me what?" he asked her.

"That I saw getting pregnant by you as a chance to have an unbreakable connection to you. Don't get me wrong," she added quickly, "I **want** to be pregnant because I **want** to be a mom! I just saw the connection thing as a sort of, perk."

"Why would you be afraid to tell me that?" he asked her, brushing the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

"I didn't want you to think poorly of me," she answered, nuzzling into his hand when he cupped her face. "I didn't want you thinking I was some love-struck fool, trying to cling to some thread of a connection, to a man I could never have."

"You have me, Caroline," he whispered, brushing his thumb lightly over her lips.

"I guess I thought," she continued, the affect he was having on her starting to show, "That even if you **weren't** involved, that it would somehow bring me closer to you."

"I practically live here, you slave driver," he joked. "How much closer do you want me to be?"

After a smirk and a roll of her eyes, she told him, "I felt a distance from you, and I didn't know how to bridge the gap. I just wanted to be closer to you. I didn't exactly know why, **then**, but I do **now**."

"And, why's that?" he asked; his breathing stopped as he awaited her answer.

"Because," she told him with quiet certainty, "I'm in love with you."

A sharp exhale escaped him, and he smiled as it did, a mixture of love and pain residing in his expression. "I am **so** in love with you, there are times when I am with you, where I can scarcely breathe."

Whispering his name, she sought his lips with hers, the kiss melting into a combination of respect and raw need.

Pulling away, she whispered his name again, then asked, "How sure are you about waiting till after the baby is born?" The sound of need in her voice made him ache.

"I've flip-flopped so many times on the issue," he whispered hoarsely, planting kisses down to her neck, "That I just don't know anymore."

"I want you, Richard," she breathed, spinning from his affections.

"You're only saying that because you are-"

"Horny?" she interrupted him, groaning as she added, "God, yes! I'm sorry, but I am."

Smiling, he nuzzled into her hair. "You know, there **is** another solution to that problem, that doesn't require us to break the pact."

As soon as he said the words, he inched his fingers inside the elastic waistband of her stretchy maternity pants, his eyes searching hers for approval. She knew what he was suggesting, and her cheeks grew flush with desire.

Nodding, she lowered her lids, breathing ragged in anticipation.

Permission given, he moved slowly towards his destination, teasing and tantalizing as he traveled.

"Quick fix," he asked her, "Or slow and sensual?"

"Slow," she moaned, drawing the word out breathlessly.

"Lie down with me," he whispered, helping her to readjust her position.

Front to side, he pulled her to him, his back to the back of the couch, her lying flat on hers.

She felt his arousal pressing firmly into her hip, which just served to heighten her own, her need rising to a frenzied peak as he slowly tortured her.

Almost an hour went by, and still he played with her. Kissing her softly at first, then frantically, brushing his lips across viewable pale flesh, nuzzling her slightly swollen breasts through the two layers of material that separated him from her skin.

It was only after she begged him for the third time, that he finally ended the sweet torture, bringing her to the reward she so desperately craved.

His hand lingered at the sight of her pleasure, his fingers lazily caressing her skin, listening to her ragged breathing as it slowly regained a rhythm.

Keenly aware of his highly aroused state, Caroline began to move against him, enticing a low moan from his throat.

"Your turn," she whispered, moving to sit up, prompting him to remove his hand from her body and clothing. He swung his legs off the couch, sitting beside her, but when she moved to undue his belt buckle, he grabbed her hands to stop her.

She looked up at him questioningly, overwhelmed by the wealth of emotions she saw staring back at her.

"I want to do this, Richard," she whispered, smiling reassuringly, and he slowly released her hands in response.

"Lock the door?" he asked of her, his voice barely audible, and she nodded before she jumped up to do just that.

When she returned to him, she slowly ran her hand up his leg, resting high on his thigh, then she asked him softly if he was ok.

He nodded his answer, closing his eyes as he felt her hands return to his belt.

Assisting her, he lifted his weight off the couch so that she could pull his pants and boxers down, just enough to expose him.

"Lucky me," she whispered appreciatively, and he smiled as he opened his eyes, gazing back at her with clouded vision.

"Quick fix, or slow and torturous?" she asked him, grinning slyly.

He smirked over her choice of words. "Quick fix," he answered. "I've had all the foreplay I can handle."

When she wrapped her hand around him, he groaned in satisfaction, the sound muffling as she locked her lips to his.

Her kisses moved to his jaw line before finding the soft tender skin between neck and shoulder, tugging the collar of his shirt aside to allow skin on skin contact. He took a steadying breath in an attempt to speak.

"Before- With you- I have no staying power-" His words were as ragged as his breathing.

"This is a quick fix," she whispered into his hair. "I'm not expecting you to."

Relaxed by her understanding, he finished within minutes, sighing contentedly as he pulled her closer to his side, his arm around her, his head resting against hers.

"Why was **this** ok," she asked him, "but not **actual** sex?"

"I still don't know where I stand on that," he said, planting a soft kiss in her hair. "And I knew you needed that."

"I **so** did," she chuckled, "And I want you to know," she added seriously, "I didn't **just** do that because I was horny. I wouldn't have allowed just **anyone** to touch me like that! I wanted **you** to touch me like that, and have for a while now. **That's** why I did it."

"I wasn't expecting you to return the favor," he admitted quietly. "That was a nice surprise."

She laughed. "If I hadn't, you would have exploded."

"I could have done something about it later," he told her. "On my own."

"Would it have been as much fun?" she asked with a grin he couldn't see.

"Definitely not," he answered with a short laugh, adding with serious sincerity, "That was amazing, Caroline."

"Yeah," she whispered dreamily, snuggling deeper into his side. "It was."

"We should clean up, and put ourselves back together," he suggested, and she nodded before moving to look him in the eyes.

"Shower with me?" she asked, and he nodded wordlessly, allowing her to lead the way, him following her up the stairs.

**TBC**

Author's note:

Ok, I'm leaving this rated 'T' for the moment, but if anyone feels I should up it to 'M', just let me know and I will.

Ok, so, what do we think? Inquiring minds wanna know! Review please!

MTLBYAKY


	9. Chapter 9

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 9**

**XXX**

--Annie sat fuming, irritated by the man sitting across from her.

"You have to be cheating!" she accused him, crossing her arms and pouting like a spoiled child who was just denied a cookie.

"I won't dignify that with a response," Richard returned without emotion, shifting to stand. "Caroline, do you want anything from the kitchen?"

"Chocolate ice cream and saltine crackers?" she asked hopefully, smiling sheepishly.

The blank expression he wore hid a smirk of amusement. "What's next," he quipped, "Tabasco flavored angel food cake?"

"What?" she asked defensively. "It's a sweet and salty kind of thing!"

"And mine was a bland and spicy kind of thing." His sarcastic tone made her smile.

"At least I'm not craving clay. Or dirt, or laundry detergent," Caroline announced, hiding a smirk of her own.

"Pregnant women really crave that stuff?" Annie asked, beginning the task of cleaning up the monopoly board.

"It's an indication that their bodies are lacking some vital nutrient," Richard answered as he began dishing out Caroline's ice cream.

"I can't believe I lost three games in a row to you!" Annie exclaimed, changing the subject. "There has to be a game out there that you suck at!"

"Haven't found it yet," he stated flatly, moving to retrieve the crackers from the pantry. "But you're welcome to try."

Caroline wincing in pain interrupted their bantering.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Annie asked, not so much worried as curious.

"I think it's indigestion," Caroline answered. "Richard, could you bring the antacids with you when you come?"

He rolled his eyes as he juggled the bowl of ice cream and sleeve of crackers over to one hand, then opened the cupboard to the left of the sink in search of the requested item.

"It's been coming and going all night," Caroline added, catching Richard's previously distracted attention.

"Where's the pain located?" he asked her as he headed back into the livingroom, and she put both her hands in the center of her abdomen, then slid them out to either side.

"Any tightness?" he asked, handing her the bowl and the crackers, but keeping the medicine in his hand for the moment.

"Contractions?" Caroline asked, sensing where his thoughts were. "Can't be. It's way too soon."

"Women go into premature labor all the time," Richard informed her, sitting on the coffee table and facing her when Annie removed the Monopoly box. "When you feel it again," he asked of her, "Tell me."

Leaning forward, his elbows rested upon his knees, his eyes on his folded hands in front of him.

"Should we be worried?" Annie asked, returning from the game cupboard, concern edging her tone.

"I don't know yet," Richard answered truthfully, his stance never changing. Caroline continued eating her ice cream and crackers, unalarmed.

A few silent minutes later, she winced again. Richard immediately reached out, placing his hands on her swollen belly, pressing gently along the path Caroline had previously indicated as the location of the pain. She lifted her bowl out of his way, but otherwise continued to eat as if nothing was amiss.

After several moments, Richard stood and snagged the medicine bottle off the coffee table, tugging the lid off and dropping two chalky wafers into his palm.

"Here," he said, offering them to her, "But I don't think they'll help."

"Why not?" Annie asked, watching as Caroline popped the medicine into her mouth before returning to her late night treat.

"I don't think it's indigestion," Richard answered. "I think it's Braxton Hicks."

Scowling, confused, Annie asked, "What's that?"

"False labor," Richard said as he walked into the kitchen, returning the antacid bottle to the cupboard.

"How can you tell the difference?" Annie questioned him as she joined him.

"With **real** labor," Richard explained, "The abdomen muscles tighten. With **false** labor, they don't."

"Oh, so **that's** what you were doing," Annie sang in understanding. "I just thought you were trying to cop a cheap feel!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "Does everything revolve around sex with you, Annie?"

"Hey!" she shot back, "Just cause you ain't gettin any, doesn't mean you have to rain on **my** parade!"

Richard left her with her assumptions and turned away, but Annie could tell by the brief expression that flickered across his face that something was off.

"You guys ain't doin it, are you?" she asked the room in general, but Richard was the first to respond.

"How is that any of your business?" he challenged her, turning to face her once again.

"We do other stuff," Caroline chimed in casually, now dipping crackers into her ice cream, using them like little scoops.

"Ugh!" Richard groaned. "Caroline, did you have to tell her that?"

"What's the big deal?" she asked, completely unfazed, oblivious to the smirk Annie now wore.

"Yeah, Richie, lighten up!" Annie teased.

"The big deal is," Richard answered Caroline's question, ignoring Annie, "She uses information like that for evil!"

Annie feigned offense with mock innocence. "I would **never**!"

"Annie, don't be evil," Caroline scolded in passing as she set her bowl on the coffee table in front of her. Richard rolled his eyes as he collected the discarded dish.

"Like that'll do any good!" he snipped. "It's the letter thing all over again! If you had any idea how long she tortured me--"

He stopped abruptly, words and movement, and glanced up into Annie's wide eyes.

"What letter?" Caroline asked, suddenly very interested in the conversation happening around her, whereas before, her midnight snack took precedence.

Annie nudged him with her eyes, but when he showed no sign of answering her, she chimed in. "Richard wrote you a letter, a long time ago, professing his love for you."

"Annie!" Richard snapped at her through gritted teeth, but she exhibited not an inkling of remorse.

"It was already out there, Richie!" she defended herself. "What were you going to do, lie to her?"

He set the bowl he was still holding down on the counter with force, shot Annie a glare, then spun around to face Caroline.

"It was right before you were supposed to get married to Del," he explained. "I'd had **way** too much Chianti, and, before I knew it, I was spilling my guts in written form."

"How come I never saw it?" Caroline asked him, then glanced over at Annie. "How do **you** know about it?"

"I left it for you to find," he told her, "On top of a pile of thank you notes. I guess you just overlooked it."

"And **I** found it in the street," Annie interjected, "Cause he threw the whole box out Vickie's window, the day you helped deliver her baby."

"You were with Joe at that point," he continued, "And I thought things would be awkward between us, if you'd found it."

"Plus," Annie added sarcastically, "He has that whole, spineless jellyfish disorder thing."

Richard glared back at her briefly before returning his gaze to Caroline.

"Where's the letter now?" Caroline asked them. "Can I see it?"

Richard stammered for an answer. "I'm not really sure where I put it."

Annie rolled her eyes. "I still have a copy of it in my diary," she said, heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

Richard shot daggers at the back of Annie's head with his intense glare, before dropping to his knees in front of Caroline. "I'm really not comfortable with this," he told her, almost pleading with her.

"Richard," she whispered, cupping his face in her hand, "We're a couple now. This is important to me."

He stared back at her for a moment, before jumping up and throwing his hands in the air in frustration. "I give up," he groaned, stepping up to his side of the desk and busying himself with organizing the pens in the caddy.

As he attempted to expel his nervous energy, Annie walked back in with a worn piece of paper in her hand.

"I'm gonna leave you guys alone," she whispered to Caroline, handing her the note before quickly leaving the apartment.

When Caroline heard the door click closed, she glanced down at the folded slip of paper in her hand. Such a benign looking item, it was hard to believe it was causing Richard such anguish.

What was in this letter that had him so nervous, she wondered. She wanted to know, but she also had this deep-seeded need to gain his permission and approval before opening it to find out.

Her eyes left the paper and looked in Richard's direction, silently watching as he diligently worked to put the pens in some kind of order by color.

"If you don't want me to read this," she finally spoke, "Then I won't. I want to- I want to know what it says, but not at the expense of your feelings."

The shuffling of the pens stopped, and he hesitated before answering, his eyes closing as he muttered, "Go ahead."

He looked so tortured, and her heart wept for him, tears welling in her eyes as she slowly unfolded the paper in her hands.

Blinking to clear her vision, she began to read.

"Dear Caroline, I don't really know what I'm writing, so please, bear with me. I know I'm probably violating several rules of etiquette by telling you this right before your wedding, but I have strong feelings for you. I want to be with you. I want to share your laughter and wipe away your tears. If you feel the same way, and I have any chance at all with you, come to Remo's as soon as you can. You may not recognize me, because if you walk through that door, I'll have a smile on my face previously unseen by anyone. If you're not there by seven, I'll know your answer is no."

Knowing she was reading the letter, his heart started racing, the sound thundering in his ears. There was no real reason he could think of, for why she couldn't read it. They were a couple now, like she'd said. Over the past week, they had talked, and laughed, and shared. And more than just words.

The intimacy between them was like a dream, creating a happiness within him he never thought possible. There was nothing in that letter he hadn't already admitted to her, so why should it matter if she saw his feelings in print?

The letter seemed almost taboo, he realized, turning from the desk to stare out the window. So much energy had gone into her not seeing it. For her to read it now, it almost seemed like a betrayal to the effort that went into keeping it from her.

Drunken words scrawled in a moment of weakness, during a time in Caroline's life where it was far from appropriate to share with her such feelings.

Would she see it as tacky? He did, in retrospect.

Gently, almost reverently, she folded the letter back along the creases, slowly setting it on the coffee table before moving to stand.

He could see her approaching out of his peripheral vision, and he crossed his arms in front of him as he willed his heart to slow its dangerous rhythm. His gaze remained out the window, staring at nothing as she stepped up behind him.

Her hand slid up his back before coming to rest on his shoulder, her mind racing with what to say.

A million thoughts came to mind, and almost as many questions, but ultimately, she decided on two simple words.

"Thank you," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his back.

He offered a single nod in response, and they stood in complete silence before her quiet voice sliced it.

"Let's go to bed," she suggested, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow and encouraging him to turn and join her.

Allowing her to lead, he followed, only stopping when they approached the stairs leading to her room.

When she turned to face him, he questioned her with his eyes alone.

"We're not going to do anything we haven't already done," she assured him, reaching out to take his hand. "I just want to be close to you right now," she told him. "I want to fall asleep in your arms. I want to wake up beside you."

A slight pained smile inched onto his face, before nodding simply in approval.

**XXX**

--A late lunch at Remo's was just fine by Annie. Late afternoon was the restaurants slowest time of day, which meant better, more personalized service, and less din of noise from the mass of patrons crammed into the 'intimate setting' sized building.

A perfect opportunity to talk, and when Caroline had invited her, that's just what Annie thought the plan was. But Caroline had barely said a few words the entire time there, and the conversation seemed strained because of it.

Finally, Annie decided to press the matter, to see if she could get her friend to open up and tell her what she suspected was on her mind.

"You're unusually quiet," Annie said as she pushed her dessert plate aside.

"I have a lot on my mind," Caroline replied distantly, pulling Annie's plate to her, to finish the last bite of cake left on it.

Easier than I thought, Annie mused, then asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

"Kind of," Caroline muttered, "But I don't know if I should."

"Why not?" Annie asked.

"Richard has a huge thing about privacy," Caroline told her, "And you have a tendency to tease him."

"I like teasing Richie," Annie admitted with a smirk, "But I don't **have to** tease him. If you need to talk, I can promise you, it won't leave this table in **any** way."

Considering her words for a moment or two, Caroline finally broke down. "He won't have sex with me!"

Surprised, Annie announced, "I would've thought surely, by now-"

"Me too!" Caroline interrupted. "I mean, we do **other stuff**, and it's really great! But, I guess I'm just not seeing what the difference is! Why can we do **other stuff**, but not, you know, the **real** stuff?"

"Well, what is it you're doing?" Annie asked seriously.

Caroline hesitated before responding. "I'm not sure if I should tell you that."

"You can trust me," Annie assured her.

"Ok," Caroline agreed eventually. "But I better not hear any snickering!"

"I promise," Annie said as she made an X with her finger over her heart.

"It's, well, **manual** stuff," Caroline stuttered, blushing.

Annie caught on immediately. "Oh, so, he does for you and you do for him."

"Yeah," Caroline confirmed with a nod. "And it's been **fantastic**! He's **very** good at it! But, I want to take that next step, and he keeps telling me he's not sure yet. Maybe he just doesn't find me attractive right now!" she added sadly. "Because I'm so fat!"

"You're not fat, Caroline," Annie soothed. "You're just pregnant."

"Maybe it's a turnoff," Caroline guessed, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.

"Well, does he get turned on when you're doing the manual stuff?" Annie asked.

"Yeah," Caroline answered, grabbing her napkin and dabbing at her cheeks.

"Then it's not that," Annie stated assuredly.

"Then, what is it?" Caroline asked her.

"I don't know," Annie told her, her brain turning over ideas. But I'm gonna find out, she thought to herself silently.

**XXX**

--Promising Caroline she wouldn't say anything made Annie's job harder. She was confident that she could break Richard, but it was going to take more time if she couldn't come right out and ask him. Time **she** had, but was unsure if **he** would give her without balking.

Getting him alone was the other tricky part. He lived with Caroline now, and if she called him away from her, she would want to know why.

It took a while to devise a plan, but she was certain it was a good one. Being an actress, and a damned good one, in her opinion, she was sure she could get him to go. Then she would tag along, and confront him when they got there.

Showtime, she told herself, then entered Caroline's loft like she did on any other day of the week.

"Excellent! Coffee!" Annie exclaimed as she headed straight for the kitchen.

Caroline and Richard were working at the desk, as usual, and Caroline tossed a simple greeting over her shoulder at Annie's entrance.

"So, Richie, did you go over and check out the damage yet?" Annie asked casually, immediately gaining his attention, and Caroline's as well.

"What are you talking about?" he asked her, his work halting for the moment.

"You didn't hear about it?" she asked with a serious tone. "There was a fire in your building last night!"

Caroline immediately became alarmed. "Oh my God! Was anyone hurt?"

Annie shook her head. "I don't think so. Just structural damage."

Richard hopped off his stool and headed straight for the phone.

"Who are you calling?" Annie asked, hiding her slight distress.

"The manager of the building," Richard answered calmly.

Silently, Annie cursed herself for not thinking of that. If he confirmed there was no fire through his landlord, her plan was thwarted.

After more than a minute with the phone to his ear, Richard sighed and hung it up. "No answer," he said, concern beginning to show.

"You should just go down there," Annie suggested, breathing an unseen sigh of relief.

Only muttering in agreement, Richard moved towards the door to grab his coat and leave.

"I'm going with you," Caroline announced, heading towards him, but before Annie could say something to stop her, Richard spoke up.

"No," he told her. "We don't know what kind of damage there is. It might not be safe."

When Caroline started to rebut, Annie interjected.

"I agree. I'll go with him."

"That won't be necessary," Richard stated flatly, declining her offer, but Annie wasn't about to take no for an answer.

"It's no problem," she said as she set her coffee mug down on the counter. "Besides, it'll make Caroline feel better," she added. "To have someone watching over you."

Glancing over, he saw the worry in Caroline's expression, and sighed in resignation. "Fine," he threw at Annie. "Just stay out of my way."

Annie rolled her eyes as she headed for and out the door, following him.

**X**

--There didn't seem to be any damage to the building from the outside, but when Annie suggested that they go up to his apartment to check it out anyway, Richard agreed without hesitation or suspicion. His apartment, from the hallway, also appeared unscathed.

"I don't think there was a fire," Richard surmised as he slid his key in the lock. "There isn't even any smoke damage."

Annie held her tongue, until he had the door open and had stepped inside. Right behind him, she slammed the door shut as soon as she entered and spun around to face him.

"I lied," she told him, and he crossed his arms as he stared back at her.

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

"I needed to talk to you," she answered, adding, "Alone."

Again, he asked, "Why?"

Annie rolled her eyes and kicked a dining chair towards him, then grabbed another one for herself.

Reluctantly, he took a seat, watching her carefully as she took hers. An awkward silence followed, causing Richard to grow impatient.

"You wanted to talk," he reminded her, exasperated. "So, talk!"

"I'm trying to figure out how best to begin," she shot back, equally as irritated. "I have to be careful how I word this. I promised Caroline--"

She stopped short of finishing the sentence, and Richard sighed in response.

"You've been talking with Caroline about me again, haven't you?"

"Of course," she answered dismissively. "But for the purposes of **this** conversation, let's just say I haven't."

He rolled his eyes before telling her, "Just spit it out, Spadaro! I don't have all day!"

"It's not as easy as that," she snipped, looking to the ground, as if it held the words she was trying to find.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked her, his voice softer than before.

"Not exactly," she answered, her eyes still on the ground.

"Annie!" he snapped, growing even more impatient. "Just tell me!"

"Why won't you have sex with her?" she blurted out, the shock on his face only lingering for a second before dropping to a stone cold glare.

"Why must you meddle?" he asked angrily.

"I wouldn't care," she told him, "If Caroline didn't."

"Caroline and I are doing fine in that department," he shot back, "Not that it's any of your business."

"Do you still find her attractive, even though she's pregnant?" she asked, ignoring his obvious agitation over her questions.

There was a flicker of understanding before he answered. "Yes," he said simply.

"Then, what's the problem?" she asked, pressing further.

"She thinks I find her unattractive because I won't have sex with her?" he answered with a question.

"I can't tell you that," she told him, "But between you and me," she added, "I don't think that's your problem."

He scoffed. "Then, enlighten me. What do **you** think my problem is?"

"I think you're scared," she said with certainty.

"Of what?" he asked, his tone implying that she was way off base.

"If I knew **that**, I wouldn't be here, trying to weasel answers out of you!"

"I'm not scared," he muttered, somewhat dodging her assumptions.

"Aren't you?" she questioned him, and he glared back in response. "You won't get past this unless you talk about it," she told him, her tone a cross between stern and compassionate. When he remained silent, she added, "I could call you Richard, if that helps."

He rolled his eyes and smirked, but the smile quickly faded. "She's pregnant," he finally caved, looking away from her.

"I know that," she said in response, receiving another glare for the comment.

"It's weird, isn't it?" he asked her, which just confused her.

"What? That she's pregnant?" she asked, trying to follow his line of thinking.

"No," he said with a sigh. She wasn't going to make this easy on him. "Having sex with a pregnant woman. Isn't that weird?"

"So, you **are** turned off by the pregnancy." It was a statement, not a question.

"No! Just the opposite!" He groaned when he realized he had just admitted that.

She smiled, but quickly hid it. "It's ok to find her sexy, Richard!" she assured him. "A lot of men think it's sexy! Some, in a perverted way, but that's not what you're doing!"

"I'm not?" He seemed to be questioning his own motives.

"No!" she returned adamantly. "You're in love with Caroline! And it's **still** Caroline! Just, **fuller**."

He groaned at her choice of words.

"Look," she said to him, "If that's the problem, there is no problem. It's ok to still be attracted to her!"

"That's not the only problem," Richard admitted hesitantly.

Scowling, Annie asked, "Ok, what's the **other** problem?"

"The book says it won't," he prefaced, "But, what if it hurts the baby?"

"You believe the book on everything else, why not **this**?" she asked curiously.

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Sighing, she shot back, "We're tap-dancing here, Richard. Just, tell me what the problem is!"

"It's embarrassing, ok?" he snapped, annoyed. "The book was vague! And I couldn't find another one that answered the question!"

"Ok," she suggested, her voice softer, hoping it would help to calm Richard some, "Let's play twenty questions."

The expression he wore had a familiar cynicism to it. "It's bigger than a bread box," he quipped sarcastically, and she grinned back at him in response.

"I'm not interested in your penis size," she joked back, and his ears burned red immediately. "Seriously," she said, wiping the smile from her face. "Are you worried that you're going to crush him?"

He shook his head, looking away.

"Are you worried that you'll bump into him, when you're inside her?" she asked.

Again, he shook his head, the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

"Are you worried about the effects of the orgasm?"

"Not hers," he answered, his voice strained from the embarrassment he was feeling.

She smiled slightly when she realized what he was saying. "Are you worried about your ejaculate?"

His whole face burst into flame, and she laughed before catching herself.

"Sorry," she apologized, adding, "Just wear a condom then."

"Bad for the baby," he said with a shake of his head.

"Well, what about, **that**, do you think is bad for the baby?" she asked, then added jokingly, "You don't shoot acid, do you?"

He glared back at her. "I don't know what about it is bad because I can't find any book with information about it!"

Annie raised her hands in gesture for him to calm down. "Do you have a phone book?" she asked him, glancing around the room.

"Why?" he asked, eyeing her warily.

"I want to find an exterminator for this roach nest!" she snipped sarcastically. "Do you have one or not?"

When he pointed to the cupboard by the sink, she immediately retrieved it, flopping it open to the 'C' section.

After searching the pages for about a minute, she reached past him and grabbed the phone.

"Don't worry," she quipped, "It's a local call."

He watched her as she dialed the number, still unsure of exactly what she was doing.

"Hey," she said into the phone, "Got a question for 'ya. I'm twenty-five weeks pregnant, and my boyfriend and I wanna have sex. Will that hurt the baby?"

She stopped to listen, smirking at Richard as he squirmed uncomfortably in his seat.

"Ok," she said to the person on the other end of the line, "But what about his ejaculate? Any problems there?"

She listened again, giving Richard a thumbs up a moment later.

"Thanks," she said, wrapping up the call, "You've been most helpful!"

When she hung up the receiver, she gave Richard a pat on the back. "There'ya go! There's nothing in ejaculate that can harm mother or baby."

"They told you that?" he asked, turning the phonebook around to face him, to see just who it was she had called. Clinics: pregnancy.

"Yep!" she answered, dropping back down onto her chair. "You can ride her till the cows come home! No problem!"

He rolled his eyes. "Why must you always be so crass?"

She shrugged her answer, adding proudly, "It's a gift."

"More like a curse," he scoffed. "I should get back to Caroline."

Annie agreed, pushing her chair aside as she moved to join him. "So, you gonna go for it?"

"That's none of your business," he told her sternly, pouring cat food into a bowl to appease the creature that resided in his wall. "And thanks," he added, heading for the door.

"No problem," she said, following behind him. "But I've given you enough freebie therapy sessions. Next time," she warned him, "I'm gonna have to charge you."

**TBC**

Author's note:

No smut in this chapter, but never fear, more is coming. At least 3 more scenes in coming chapters, possibly even four. Not sure if the second scene will warrant a ratings hike to 'M', but the third will for sure. Just a little something for you to look forward to!

You know what I look forward to? Reviews! Let's see 'em, folks!

MTLBYAKY


	10. Chapter 10

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 10**

**XXX**

--Caroline nearly attacked Richard the second he walked through the door, bombarding him with questions.

"How bad was the damage? Is your stuff ok? Is the building uninhabitable?"

Richard calmly hung his coat on the hook before turning to answer her. "Everything is fine. Annie was… mistaken." He opted not to rat her out by telling Caroline she had lied.

"Mistaken?" she questioned him, confused.

"It wasn't my building," he told her, leading the way to the desk.

She was close behind. "Whose building was it?"

"I don't know," he answered, stopping short of taking his seat, adding quickly, "Not mine. Look, Caroline, I need to talk to you. How's the deadline looking?" He lifted a comics panel to show he was referring to the deadline for the strip.

"The strip for tomorrow is already done," she said as she pointed to a manila envelope on the counter. "This is just ahead work for Monday. Why?"

"We need to talk, but I didn't want to create a panic for you later, if we were behind," he explained, gesturing towards the couch. "Let's sit down."

Cautiously, she took her seat, scowling. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he told her assuredly, sitting beside her and turning sideways to better face her. "I've been getting the feeling lately that, you would like to take our relationship, to the next level. I haven't been misreading things, have I?" he asked, to which Caroline shook her head.

"I've just been waiting for you to be ready," she whispered, almost shyly.

"I just need more time," he sighed. "It's not about you," he added, expressing remorse. "This is about me and me alone. I have stuff to work out in my head first."

"What stuff?" she asked, whispering, emotional.

"It's not important," he said with a shake of his head, but when she looked back at him skeptically, he knew he was going to have to elaborate at least a little. "Part of it, has to do with the baby."

Frowning, she asked, "What about him?"

"Being intimate with you, while you're pregnant with him," he answered carefully.

"The book said sex wouldn't hurt the baby," she reminded, still somewhat confused.

"The book didn't cover everything," he said softly, embarrassed.

Sensing his tension, she was reluctant to press further, but curiosity got the better of her. "What was missing?"

There was no tactful way to answer that question, he realized. Every possible answer sounded just as crude as the last, causing him to fluster as the seconds ticked past, knowing she was awaiting his answer.

"Richard?" Though she uttered his name quietly, he snapped back at her uncharacteristically.

"I'm thinking!" Off her saddening expression, he became aware of the tone he'd used, and apologized immediately. "I'm sorry, Caroline. I didn't mean to bark at you. It's just that- This is hard for me, ok?"

She could almost see his internal struggle, and she sighed before reminding him of what he had once said to her. "Richard, we're both adults. You can say the words."

Nodding, he picked the sentence that seemed the least crass of all the options he had mulled over in his head. "I was worried that **my** orgasm would hurt the baby."

For a moment, she wasn't exactly sure what he'd meant by that, but then suddenly, it struck her clearly. "Richard," she asked him, "If that helps **make** the baby, how could it hurt him?"

"I don't know," he answered, feeling almost ashamed. "I looked in over a dozen books and magazines, but none of them had any information on the subject."

"Maybe we could ask my doctor?" she suggested carefully, knowing he was feeling uncomfortable over the topic.

He shook his head, then told her, "I finally got an answer on that."

"From whom?" she asked, curious.

"I got the answer from a random pregnancy clinic out of the yellow pages," he answered, purposefully omitting Annie's name, hoping she wouldn't push the issue.

"That must've been hard for you," she ventured, adding gently, "Talking to a total stranger about that."

"The beautiful thing about the phone is," he quipped, "You have the option of total anonymity. They can't see me and I can't see them."

Not wanting to lie to her, he went with a vague joke, speaking the truth, but not in direct response to her comment.

"Ha, ha," she muttered sarcastically, a smirk following, but a moment later, she got serious again. "So, where does that leave us?"

Eyes pleading with her to understand, he said to her, "It leaves us waiting, to take that next step."

Sadness lingered in her expression as her gaze dropped to her lap, and he instantly realized by her slumped demeanor, that he had hurt her.

"Caroline," he whispered, lifting her chin with his finger, requesting her attention. "I don't mean to upset you. I just, need more time."

Turning away from his touch, she muttered in a slightly biting tone, "I never realized it was such a chore to sleep with me."

Sighing, he moved to rest his body against the back of the couch, running his hand through his hair in frustration. "That is **not** what I think, Caroline," he told her with gentle sternness, "And you know it."

"You just don't find me attractive right now, is that it?" she asked, tears welling.

"No," he said, his eyes closing in pain. "That's not it."

"Then, why don't you want to make love to me?" she asked him, blinking her fresh tears to her cheeks.

Sitting at the edge of the couch once again, he took Caroline's hands in his as he leaned in, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"I do," he whispered. "Please believe me."

Nuzzling against his cheek, she asked, "This isn't just about hurting the baby, is it?" Hesitantly, he shook his head. "Then, what is it?"

"I'm nervous," he admitted, his voice strained.

When she shifted away, he pulled back, but continued to avoid eye contact.

"Why are you nervous?" she asked softly, slipping one of her hands out of his gentle grip and running her fingers through his hair consolingly.

Leaning into her touch, he said, "It's hard to put into words."

"Can you try?" she asked of him, continuing to rake her hand through his blonde waves.

"What if it's-" He faltered, unsure of his words. Unsure of himself. "What if it isn't worth the hype?"

What he was implying dawned on her quickly, after only seconds of thoughts. "Wait a minute. Are you telling me that you're nervous about disappointing me?"

Face turning beet red, he offered a single nod in answer.

Smiling, she kissed his lips lightly before touching her forehead to his. "You won't," she whispered. "There's no way you can."

"I've dreamt of this moment so many times," he told her. "And in my dreams, I'm amazingly inadequate."

"And in **my** dreams, I show up late for school on test day, naked! Dreams aren't reality, they're a window into our subconscious. Dreams show us doubts and fears, and sometimes our desires, but they're not showing us **truth**!"

"I know that, Caroline," he muttered, pulling away from her. "I don't believe in premonitions, either. It's just, worrying about hurting the baby, worrying about pleasing you-- It's a lot of pressure on me."

"Well," she suggested, "If you need more time, I guess we can just, stick with what we've been doing, for now. Till the baby's born."

"You wouldn't mind?" he asked, somewhat surprised.

"Richard, this isn't **my** relationship, this is **our** relationship. And relationships involve compromise. If you would feel more comfortable waiting, we can wait. I really don't mind."

"You seemed to mind earlier," he reminded her carefully.

"Earlier," she explained, "I thought you didn't **want** to make love to me. **That's** why I was upset."

"So, knowing that I want to is enough for now?" he asked. "Even if we don't take that next step until later?"

"Yes," she replied simply.

Gathering her into his arms, he held her close, sighing with relief. "Thank you," he whispered.

"I would've never guessed you to be unsure of yourself, in that department."

He gave a scoffing chuckle as he pulled back. "I am unsure of myself in almost **every** department."

"But, you're so talented at it," she said with a shy smile.

Looking over at her abruptly, he asked with uncertainty, "You think so?"

She laughed. "You couldn't tell by my reaction?"

"Well," he said with a smile, "It **has** been a few hours. I seem to be having difficulty remembering."

Taking the hint, she ran with it. "Well, we could go upstairs, so I can remind you."

Nodding, he inched closer, touching his lips to hers in a gentle kiss. Passion and want soon fueled the simple affection, leaving them both breathless when she broke away.

"Let's continue this in my room," she whispered, taking his hand and encouraging him to stand with her. "Lock the door," she asked of him, "Then meet me upstairs."

Releasing his hand, she threw him a sly grin before ascending the steps. He watched her for a moment, swallowing the lump of excitement lodged in his throat as he turned to accomplish his assigned task.

With the locks clicked and the chain latched, he moved quickly up the stairs, stopping with a gasp when he entered her room.

His heart rate soared when he saw her, standing before him, in nothing more than a smile.

"Your turn," she whispered, grinning.

His breathing ceased as he stared back at her, drinking in her beauty. Her abdomen swollen with his child, her breasts fuller from the pregnancy, her pale skin with a sprinkling of freckles radiant and glowing.

When his body reminded him to, he took in a sharp breath, the sound like that of a man just saved from drowning, desperate to fill his lungs with air.

His gaze never left her form as he fumbled with his shirt buttons, blindly unhooking each one before pulling the article from his body and tossing it to the floor.

She smiled as he cursed at his belt buckle for being uncooperative, pushing his pants down and off after kicking his shoes aside.

"You're still a tad overdressed," she teased, looking to his boxers before meeting his eyes once again. "Need some help?"

He nodded, forcing himself not to reach for her as she approached. The moment her hands touched his waist, he felt unsteady on his feet, struggling to keep balance as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of the last obstacle between them.

Slowly, she slid them down his body, grazing his hips and thighs before allowing gravity to take over. He stepped out of them, backing her towards the bed as he stepped forward.

"Before you ask," she whispered, "I want it slow."

Smiling, he said, "You always want it slow."

"Then let's just say, unless otherwise notified, I always want it slow."

"Duly noted," he returned, reaching past her to pull down the covers. After helping her to sit, he literally jumped onto the bed, immediately hunkering down under the sheet and blanket.

She laughed as she swung her legs up and joined him. "Someone's eager."

"Do you blame me?" he asked rhetorically. "Look at you!"

Laughing again, she joked, "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one," he whispered, drawing her into his arms.

The kiss that followed was gentle and tender, setting the mood for the slow ascent to frenzied passion.

**XXX**

--Del bounded through Remo's door, with Charlie, as usual, in tow. He spotted Caroline and Richard immediately, sitting at a table near the center of the semi-crowded restaurant, alone.

"There you are!" he exclaimed, approaching, Charlie skating up fast behind him.

"We went to your apartment," Charlie added, bumping into Del as his momentum prevented him from stopping in time, "But you aren't there."

Caroline smiled patiently. "No, Charlie, we're not **there**, because we're **here**."

Richard rolled his eyes as he took newfound interest in his bowl of minestrone soup.

"Why were you looking for me?" Caroline asked Del, shooting Richard an apologetic look over the intrusion.

"We came up with a great way to boost sales of your Christmas cards!" Del announced excitedly.

"Um, ok," Caroline stuttered apprehensively.

Del was forever coming up with odd marketing ideas which never seemed to pan out. She was sure this was about to be another in a long line of other bad ideas.

Del paused for dramatic effect, before announcing, "Caroline in the City **boxed** card sets! Three designs, six cards each, a box of eighteen cards!"

"He can do math," Richard quipped flatly, almost under his breath, but Del just ignored him.

"And with every box set purchase…" Del signaled to Charlie, who produced an object from his messenger bag and handed it over. "A Christmas scented candle!"

"And what does Christmas smell like, exactly?" Richard asked, deadpan.

Without answering verbally, Del proceeded to stick the candle under Richard's nose, to which he abruptly turned his head and pushed Del's hand away.

"I **know** smelling stuff wasn't in the job description," he snipped, but Del just huffed and handed the candle over to Caroline.

"Smells like cinnamon," she decided, handing it back to Del.

"Right!" he exclaimed, then pointed out, "It also has a little picture of Caroline on it!"

Richard glanced at it briefly before muttering sarcastically, "Great. So, as it burns, it'll look like Caroline's in a horror movie about a fire at a house of wax museum. Very festive."

"It's not **in** the wax," Del shot back. "It's on the wrapper!"

Richard conceded the point by simply returning to his soup.

It wasn't exactly a great idea, but Caroline couldn't see the harm in it, so she agreed.

"Ok, Del, you can go ahead with it."

"Great!" he exclaimed, kissing her on the cheek. "But, here's the thing," he added, his tone changing to something more serious.

"The other shoe's about to drop," Richard mumbled in Caroline's direction, almost warning her.

"We can't use the designs we already have," Del explained. "People won't want to buy the sets if they can buy the cards individually. So, I need three new designs from you."

"By?" Caroline asked warily.

"Tomorrow," Del answered, grimacing in anticipation of her reaction.

"Tomorrow?!" she screeched. "I can't come up with three new cards by tomorrow! Not with the calendar deadline!"

"One of them could be simple," he told her pleadingly. "Like, Caroline and Salty next to a Christmas tree, and on the front, it says, Merry Christmas, and inside it could say, and Happy Holidays!"

Caroline shook her head. "No, Del, it's too short notice. Maybe next year," she added.

"I could help you," Richard offered, his eyes never leaving his food, and Caroline smiled over at him appreciatively.

"But the phrase is Merry Christmas," Del reminded him sarcastically. "You don't really have the gene for that." Richard glared at him in response.

Knowing Del's comment hurt Richard, she quickly interjected, "Alright, Del, I'll do it. But next time," she added, "You need to give me more notice."

"Deal!" he exclaimed, giving Caroline another peck on the cheek. "C'mon, Charlie! We have calls to make!"

"Right behind 'ya, boss!" Charlie skated in line behind Del, following him out the door.

"Why don't those two just come out of the closet and be done with it?" Richard muttered as he returned to his soup.

"They're not gay," Caroline insisted, "They're just lonely."

Richard just shrugged in response.

"Thank you, for offering to help," she said softly to him, placing her hand atop his.

"You're welcome," he returned plainly, his tone and demeanor indicating that he was upset.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, knowing something was.

"I'm fine," he answered, but his inflection didn't mirror his words.

Deciding to take a different approach, she said to him, "I know something's wrong, Richard. Talk to me."

He dropped his soup spoon in his bowl and sighed. "I know outwardly, I'm not a merry person, but I **do** have the ability to feel happiness."

"I know that," she whispered, stroking his fingers with hers.

"What if our son turns out like me?" he asked solemnly. "Unable to show emotion, cynical of the world."

"You show emotion, Richard. You're not a robot! It's just hard for you sometimes. And that's because of the way you were raised."

"I don't remember my parents ever saying I love you to me. Or to each other."

"It's time to break the cycle," she told him, and he nodded.

"I want our children to know what love and affection is," he said, without paying attention to the words he was using.

"Children?" she asked, a wide smile gracing her face.

Blushing, Richard told her, "I never imagined myself as a father, but through this experience, since the very beginning of the pregnancy, really, I've come to realize, that I only felt that way because of my parents. Now, I can imagine myself not only as a father, but a father of several."

Tears welled in her eyes as she listened to him speak, whispering his name when he finished. "That was beautiful," she sighed, entwining her fingers with his. "**That**," she added, "Was a show of emotion."

"I'm better at angst," he muttered. "It's joy I have difficulty expressing."

"But you feel it," she reminded him. "And that's a start."

"I suppose." He sounded anything but certain. "I just don't want our son to see me as unapproachable."

"He won't," she assured him.

"How can you be so sure?" he asked.

"Because," she answered, "I won't let that happen."

He smiled. "And, how do you suppose to stop it?"

Grinning back, she said, "Cause I'm gonna teach you to be cheery!"

He groaned, but his smile remained. "Can cheeriness be taught?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed brightly. "It's all in how you look at things! Like, for example, what's the first thing that comes to your mind, when Christmas time comes around?"

"Greedy people. Drunk Santas. Stores exploiting the holiday by price gouging-"

"Ok," she interrupted. "Try, spending time with loved ones. A beautiful holiday dinner. Finding the perfect gift for someone special. The joy on your child's face when they see Santa."

"I never had any of those things growing up," he told her, trying to detach from the pain he was feeling.

"I know," she whispered. "I can't change the past, but I **can** help you move on from it. You need to let that go and focus on the now."

"It's not so easy to do," he said to her as he pushed his bowl of cold soup aside. "I've carried it with me for so long now."

"I never said it was going to be easy. You need to take baby steps. Like, for instance," she added, "Try naming one good thing about Annie."

"That's not a baby step," he quipped, "That's a giant leap!"

She laughed, then asked of him, "Seriously. Try."

Sighing, he paused a moment to think before muttering, "She's a good listener."

"See?" she asked him with a grin. "Was that **so** hard?"

"No, not at all," he returned sarcastically. "My body just rejected my vocal chords, and my tongue is now numb, but other than **that-**"

Lightly, she slapped him playfully. "Oh, hush!" Signaling to Remo for the check, she added, "Let's go home and get started on those Christmas cards."

"Oh, joy," he quipped, "Another late night at the sweat shop."

**XXX**

--Caroline was beyond frustrated. She had only created one new card, and was completely blocked for any other ideas. Balling up the failed attempt, she threw it to the floor with the others, sighing deeply.

"I shouldn't have agreed to this!" she complained. "I'm too distracted to think!"

"What's distracting you?" he asked as he continued coloring the one card she had finished.

"You don't want to know," she muttered, flicking her pen on the desk repeatedly.

Looking up at her, he asked, "Again?"

An almost guilty expression eased onto her face as she nodded.

"Is this insatiableness a pregnancy thing or a regular thing?" he asked, returning to his work.

"It's a pregnancy thing," she answered, groaning. "But I wish it wasn't! I can't work like this!"

"We don't have time right now," he answered her unspoken request, checking his watch. "It's already ten till midnight, and you only have one card done out of three."

"I know that, Richard," she sighed, slamming her pen down.

He watched her for a moment, then set his pen down as well. "Would you be able to settle for a quickie?" he asked, and her eyes moved slowly to find his.

A slight smile spread across her face. "We've never done a quickie before."

He returned her smile. "I know. Is that a yes?"

When she nodded, he rounded the desk and pulled her into his arms, kissing her heatedly.

Breaking away, he whispered, "I'll lock the door. Go lie down on the couch."

"The couch?" she asked breathlessly. "Not the bed?"

"This isn't going to take long," he whispered back, then darted towards the door.

Seconds later, the door was locked and chained, and he was crawling over the back of the couch to join her.

Though his movements were frantic, his touch was as skillful as ever, and completely arousing. Pressing his lips to hers, he kissed her as he swiftly moved from her breasts to inside her pants, playing with her for only a few moments before slipping two fingers inside her and caressing her with his thumb.

Pushing against her, he moved in time to the rhythm of his fingers, his breathing erratic as he kissed and nipped gently at her neck. Within minutes, he was near panting.

"Please tell me you're almost there," he breathed. "I'm about to make a mess of myself."

She nodded, licking her dry lips. "Hook your fingers a little," she whispered, moaning when he complied.

The sound made him shudder. "God, Caroline, please--"

"Wait for me," she asked of him, opening her eyes to find him gazing down at her.

"I'm trying," he whispered, the sheer effort causing sweat to bead on his forehead.

"I love you," she told him, and he nodded.

"I love you, too."

Suddenly, her eyes slammed shut and she arched her back, a moan of satisfaction soon following.

When he was sure she was finished, he removed his hand from her pants and quickly went to work on his own. She helped to expose him, then immediately wrapped her hand around him, moving against his thrusts.

It took less than a minute for him to get there, his body tensing for several moments before relaxing back into the couch cushions.

Several silent minutes ticked by, the only sound their labored breathing, before Caroline finally spoke up.

"Shower?"

He nodded. "But a quick one. I don't want to be up till dawn doing those cards."

He pulled his pants and boxers back into position, holding them in place as he followed her up the stairs. As soon as he entered the bathroom, he stripped them off his body, along with his shirt, then waited for Caroline to test the water, strip herself, and step in before joining her.

"How can you be nervous about having actual sex?" she asked in a semi-casual tone. "We practically just did!"

He shrugged as he grabbed the bar of soap and began working it into a lather. "It's the idea of being inside you," he told her, running his soapy hands over her body.

"You **were** inside me," she reminded him as she touched the wall to stabilize herself when her eyes drifted shut.

"Just my fingers," he said, passing the soap over to her. "The other is more intimate."

Working the bar back into a lather, she asked, "You don't think what we just did is intimate?"

"It's **very** intimate," he told her, sighing as she began to soap him down. "The other is just more so."

"But, if you're worried about disappointing me," she challenged him, "And it's obvious you won't, what's the problem?"

He closed his eyes, about to divulge something he had serious doubts about admitting.

"If I tell you," he prefaced, "Will you promise not to overreact?" When he opened his eyes to find the worried expression on her face, he immediately shook his head, muttering, "Never mind."

"No, Richard, please," she begged of him. "I want to know."

Sighing, he swept the wet hair off his forehead. "I want you to know, I never lied to you. Everything I told you, about my doubts and fears, was one hundred percent true. I just-- I left something out."

She forced her expression to remain neutral. "Ok. And that is?"

Sighing again, he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to say. He knew if he didn't say it soon, he would lose his nerve, so he quickly took a breath and blurted it out. "I feel like a pervert."

Taken aback, she stared for a moment before questioning him. "What are you talking about?"

"You're pregnant with my child, and I look at you, and I get aroused! There is a child inside you! I shouldn't be getting aroused! I'm a pervert!"

She couldn't help herself. She knew he was upset, she knew she shouldn't, but there was no stopping it. She laughed.

Looking back at her in confusion, he asked, "Why is that funny?"

"Richard, it's ok to be turned on by a pregnant woman!" she assured him, but he shook his head as he looked away. "A lot of guys react like that," she added, but again, he shook his head.

"I'm not a lot of guys," he told her, still avoiding eye contact.

"No, you're right," she said to him. "You're Richard. The most tender, kind, moral, self-inflicted man I know! Why are you **so** sure how you feel is **so** wrong?"

"Because it is," he muttered, feeling lost by her reaction.

Smiling, she sighed, asking, "Do you lust after other pregnant women? Do you go out in search of them, so you can gawk at them?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. I don't feel this way about anyone else. Just you."

"Just me," she repeated his sentiment. "Did you find me sexy **before** I got pregnant?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Are you turned on by the fetus inside me?" she asked, "Or just the roundness it creates?"

"I'm not turned on by our son," he returned sharply, scowling.

"Richard," she whispered, touching his face and encouraging him to look at her. "Pregnancy can be very sexy to a lot of people! It creates new curves, fuller breasts-"

"Caroline," he groaned, interrupting her and looking away once again. "You're killing me."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed of," she told him, adding, "I'm flattered that you find me sexy like this!"

He looked back at her in surprise. "Flattered?!"

"Yeah!" she exclaimed. "A lot of women feel very unsexy while pregnant! But knowing how you feel-- I feel incredibly sexy!"

"You really think this is a good thing?" he questioned her in a near-whisper, placing his hands on her waist when she wrapped hers around his neck.

"Yes," she sighed, "I really do." She kissed his lips softly before pulling back to ask, "Can we **please** have sex now?"

Groaning in response, he said to her, "I'm working on it, Caroline. I really am. I just need more time."

She nodded, pulling him into another hug. "I can give you that," she told him. "Thank you for sharing with me."

"Thank you for laughing at me," he joked, and she laughed in response.

"The water's getting cold," she realized when she shivered. "We should go finish those cards now."

**TBC**

Please review!

MTLBYAKY


	11. Chapter 11

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 11**

**XXX**

--Opting to be comfortable for the late night they were about to pull, Richard and Caroline padded downstairs in their pajamas.

"I'm going to start a pot of coffee," Richard said as he headed for the kitchen.

"You're lucky," Caroline muttered, stepping up to the desk. "I miss coffee."

"It won't be forever," Richard told her, asking, "Are you planning to breastfeed?"

"I'm not sure yet," she answered. "Why?"

"You can have **some** coffee while breastfeeding," he explained, "But it transfers to the milk, so you have to take it easy on it."

The coffee started, he joined her at the desk. "You should you know," he added, picking up where he left off on coloring the one finished card. "Breastfeed, I mean. It's better for the baby."

Smiling, she flipped to a clean sheet of paper in her sketch book and plucked her drawing pen off the desk. "And you're worried about being a good daddy," she half teased. "You're already better than you think."

He smirked, slightly embarrassed, then quickly changed the subject. "You know what you could do, for one of the cards," he suggested. "On the front, have a close up on Caroline, and it reads something like, 'Men! They get one little sniffle…' Then you open it up, and Caroline is in Santa's sled, reindeer and all, and it says, 'And they call in sick!' Then, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, whatever, whatever."

"That's actually pretty good!" she laughed, immediately putting pen to paper. "Thanks!"

"Anything to move this process along," he muttered sarcastically, smirking imperceptibly as he stole a glance at her, to see her drawing feverishly.

The sound of the doorknob jiggling caught their attention, Annie's voice following seconds later.

"Hey! Are you guys up? Your lights are on, but your door is locked!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "I'll get it," he offered, hopping off his stool. "You keep drawing."

Working the locks and yanking the door open, he physically stood in Annie's way, preventing her from entering.

"What does a locked door mean to you?" he asked pointedly, his irritation with her obvious.

Annie scoffed. "Well, usually, it means the people inside are gettin it on. But since I know that's **not** the case **here-**" She ducked under his arm and forced her way past him. "Hey, Caroline! What'cha doin?"

"Christmas cards for Del," Caroline answered, her attention still on her work.

Richard sighed in exasperation as he shut the door, then headed for the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee.

"Coffee!" Annie exclaimed, asking, "Hey, Richie, could you pour me a cup, too?"

"No," he said flatly, ignoring the raspberry she gave him in response.

"I thought you finished those months ago," Annie said as she moved into the kitchen, nudging Richard with her shoulder as she passed him.

"I have to do three more for Del by tomorrow," Caroline explained, holding up her sketch and admiring it. "Two down, one to go."

"Why?" Annie asked, joining her at the desk and peeking over her shoulder at her work. "Cute."

"Some marketing idea Del came up with," Caroline answered. "This was Richard's idea!" she announced proudly, handing the finished sketch over the desk to him.

"Richie is capable of cute?" Annie quipped, receiving a glare from him, which she largely ignored.

"He's capable of more than you give him credit for," Caroline returned, slightly hurt.

"Caroline." Richard said her name in warning, not wanting her to slip any personal information in her attempt to defend him.

"I wasn't going to say anything," Caroline pouted. "I know your privacy is important to you."

"Thank you," he said simply, his attention returning to his work.

"But, you know," Caroline added, "You said yourself, that she's a good listener."

Richard slumped forward as he groaned.

"He said that?" Annie asked, surprised, and Caroline nodded.

"Maybe we should talk to her about what we were talking about in the shower," she suggested, to which Richard groaned again.

"Oooh," Annie chirped, grinning suggestively. "The shower?"

"**Talking** in the shower," Richard snipped. "Not every couple goes into the shower to have sex, Annie!"

"Annie, please," Caroline pleaded with her, "Be serious for a moment."

"Ok, ok," Annie eased off her teasing, moving to sit in the chair across from the couch. "C'mon you two! Time for another family therapy session!"

Caroline looked over at Richard beseechingly, but he only stared down at the work in front of him, unmoving.

"Please?" Caroline asked of him, and he finally looked up at her.

"I already had a conversation with her about it," he told her. "Briefly. I really don't want to go into it again."

Surprised by his admission, she asked, "When?"

Richard glanced at Annie, silently assuring her that he had no intention of exposing the details of the day the conversation took place. "The day we went to check out my apartment, because we thought there had been a fire."

Annie shot him a slight yet grateful smile before saying to him, "C'mon, Richie! If we already talked about it, what's the harm?"

Sighing in resignation, he set his pen down before moving towards the couch, nodding in receipt of Caroline's whispered thank you.

Rigidly, Richard took a seat, instinctively putting his arm around Caroline when she sat down and leaned against his side.

"Ok," Annie started, "Since Richard is super tense right now, let's have Caroline go first."

"Well," Caroline began, "Basically, he thinks he's a pervert."

After a moment, Annie nodded, remembering his comments about that. "Because he finds you sexy right now."

"Yeah," Caroline confirmed, noticing Richard's arm that was around her flinched. "I told him it was normal-" Caroline continued.

"I did too," Annie interjected.

"But he's still reluctant to sleep with me because of it," Caroline concluded, tears beginning to pool.

"Ok," Annie said as she turned her attention to Richard. "Why does this bug you so much?" she asked him. "We've both told you it's normal. What is it going to take to convince you?"

"I don't need to be convinced of anything," he returned defensively. "I can't help how I feel."

"Let's back up a sec," Annie then suggested. "You feel like a pervert because you're attracted to Caroline while there's a bun in the oven, right?"

With a scowl, he nodded.

"But you were attracted to her **before** she got pregnant, correct?" Annie asked, and again, Richard nodded. "Ok, so, think about it! You're just, plain and simple, attracted to Caroline! Baby or not!"

"It's not as simple as that," Richard muttered, staring down at his lap.

Annie sighed. "You gotta help us out here, Richard. What's the problem? Truthfully!"

Richard pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his face in frustration.

"Just tell us!" Annie demanded, wanting to get to the bottom of the issue once and for all.

"Just tell us," Caroline repeated, with a much softer and less demanding tone of voice.

"My sister was raped while pregnant!"

Immediately upon blurting out the devastating words, he buried his face in his hands. Dumbfounded, Caroline and Annie stared back at one another, at a complete loss for what to say, or even how to react.

"She cried for weeks," Richard said into his hands. "Months! She kept asking, how can someone be turned on by a pregnant woman?! What kind of pervert has sex with a pregnant woman?!"

Annie was the first to speak, her tone soft and compassionate. "Richard, rape isn't about sex. It's about control. The rapist wasn't turned on by the pregnancy, he probably saw it as a vulnerability."

"He threatened to stab the baby inside her, if she screamed," he continued, whispering, his hands dropping from his face. "He was rough with her, and she bled. She said his semen was toxic. She lost the baby three days later. She had nightmares for years," he added, brushing the tears from his face.

"I am **so** sorry," Caroline whispered, her own tears a steady stream.

"Richard," Annie said to him, "As devastating as that obviously was, for her **and** for you, because you love her, that is **not** what's going on **here**. You and Caroline love each other. You're not raping her! And you're not a pervert for being attracted to her!"

"I've tried to separate the two things in my head a million times," he told them, "But I just haven't been able to. I know it's not rape, but my mind just doesn't seem to be able to get past the idea that it's wrong to be attracted to a pregnant woman. You have no idea how conflicted I am right now." He directed the last sentence at Caroline specifically.

"I am **so** in love with you," he admitted to her, "And I want **so badly** to make love to you, but, I just- I just can't. Not right now."

"We don't have to," she said as she pulled him into a hug. "We can wait till after the baby's born. Or whenever you're comfortable."

"Maybe you should go see a professional," Annie suggested. "Talk to someone besides me about this."

"I already have," Richard informed her as he sat back in his seat, pushing his glasses back onto his face. "He said pretty much everything you just said."

Annie sighed as she stood. "I'm gonna go," she said, then ruffled Richard's hair. "I'm really sorry, Richie. You need to work past this ya'know." He slowly nodded. "Ok. Goodnight then."

As soon as Annie left, Caroline asked him, "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It's hard to talk about," he replied, detaching from the emotions he was feeling once again.

"You know what?" Caroline said as she struggled to stand, the roundness of her abdomen making the simple movement difficult. "Let's just go to bed now. I'll just do the simple card idea Del suggested in the morning."

"But I'll need time to color it," Richard countered, staring up at her, still in his seat.

She reached for his hand, and he slowly gave it to her. "I'll help you then. Some things are more important."

"What things?" he asked, standing to join her.

"Me and you," she answered, smiling gently. "We need some **us** time right now."

"Caroline, I'm not ready to-"

"Richard," she interrupted. "I'm not talking about sex. Not everything is about sex, you know," she said with a smirk.

"There goes Annie's entire belief system," he joked, then asked, "So, what are we going to be doing?"

"We're going to be holding each other," she answered. "I think we should just hold each other for a while."

"Thank you," he whispered, allowing her to lead him by the hand towards and up the stairs.

"I love you," he whispered halfway up the steps, and she smiled over her shoulder back at him.

"I love you, too."

**XXX**

--The morning had a crisp chill to it, but the busy streets of New York were no less crowded because of it. Autumn had definitely arrived, with all that it entailed.

The days grew shorter and colder, the trees were shedding their colorful leaves, and jackets once pushed to the back of closets were now being adorned.

While some viewed it as a common place annoyance and nothing more, others, like Caroline, viewed it with a far more optimistic slant.

The change in seasons meant the holidays were coming. Caroline's favorite time of year. Her excitement was evident by the spring in her step, though her step was closer to a waddle in recent weeks.

Richard slowed his pace to accommodate her, his fingers entwined with hers as they headed for her monthly doctor's appointment.

Caroline allowed him to guide her, for the most part, only glancing up from the book her nose was buried in occasionally to avoid running into passersby.

"Jonathan?"

"No," Richard replied flatly.

"Jonah?"

"No."

"Jordan?"

"No. Caroline," he complained, "If you don't stop spouting off random names, I swear I'm going to have to climb up the nearest clock tower and start thinning out the neighborhood."

"You said you wanted to help me name our child," she reminded him. "My parents will be here in a couple days, and I **know** my mom is going to ask me if we have any picked out yet."

Richard sighed, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before muttering, "Continue."

Caroline smiled, bringing the book back into view. "Joseph?"

"No."

"Joshua?"

"No."

"Josiah?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she looked up at him expectantly. "Josiah?" she asked again, and he raised his eyebrows in response.

"Maybe," he said, smiling when she did.

"Josiah," she repeated the name, almost as if admiring it. "Josiah Karinsky."

Abruptly, Richard came to a stop, looking to Caroline in complete surprise. "You're giving him my last name?"

"Well, yeah," she answered, somewhat confused by his reaction. "Is that not ok?"

"It's, ok," he stammered, "I just, wasn't really, expecting you to."

"I guess I just assumed," she explained her reasoning, "When you were talking about having more than one child with me, that eventually, we would be getting married. I want the same last name as our son," she added, tucking the baby naming book under her arm and looking away.

Richard nodded, taking a step and encouraging Caroline to move with him, returning to the pace they had set before.

"I'm sorry if I was wrong in my assumption." Her voice had a sad lilt to it that Richard instantly picked up on.

"You weren't wrong," he told her, grasping her hand a little tighter.

When he noticed that the spring in her step had returned, he smiled inwardly. The happiness she exhibited, he realized, was the same happiness he felt every day that he was with her.

Since the moment he had admitted his feelings for her, he knew he would eventually marry her, if she consented. Essentially, that's what she had just done.

"Why are you smiling?" she asked, grinning up at him.

He wasn't aware that he was, until she had said something.

"Just thinking," he said, neutralizing his expression.

"About?" she asked him, trying to sound as casual as he did.

"Us."

She was practically beaming, and Richard had to laugh at the sight of it.

"Never play cards for money," he suggested humorously. "You will lose horribly, with a poker face like that."

"I wasn't trying to bluff just now," she defended herself, half joking, half serious. "I'm happy, and I don't care who knows it!"

Stopping, he brought her around to face him. "I've never been happier in my whole life, then I am when I'm with you."

She stared back for a moment, a smirk playing on her lips. "And you say you can't show emotion," she teased him, linking her fingers together behind his neck and pulling him closer. He leaned in, resting his hands on her hips.

"Maybe you're just rubbing off on me," he said with a slight shrug, inching closer still.

"Maybe," she whispered, her lips instantly warmed by the touch of his as he completed the distance between them.

Lost in the moment, the world seemed to disappear, only coming back when a voice seeped into their altered reality.

"Get a room!"

Breaking the kiss, their faces remained inches apart, Richard only glancing briefly in the direction the insult had come from.

"We should probably get going," he whispered, raising his arm and checking his watch. "We don't want to be late."

Nodding, she followed his lead as he started back up the street towards their destination once again.

Attempting to regain his stiff façade, he cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, when is your parents' flight due in?"

"Twelve-thirty," she answered, asking, "You're coming with me, right?"

Sighing, he muttered sarcastically, "If I must."

Caroline only smiled, sensing the reason behind his change in demeanor. Expressing emotions was hard for him. He wasn't shown or taught how to express love in his youth, so, as an adult, he felt awkward in the attempt. Even in their most intimate of moments, the connection between them was usually broken or closely followed by a sarcastic quip or change of subjects.

Since Caroline saw it for what it was, it never bothered her. Just the opposite, in fact. The kind and passionate man that lurked just beneath the surface of his usually rigid exterior was for her and her alone to see. It was a gift, and one she cherished with all her heart.

"Should be a fun Thanksgiving," she added, knitting her fingers through his once again.

He scoffed. "Define fun."

Ignoring his quip, she continued. "This is the first Thanksgiving I've ever hosted, since I usually just go home to Peshtigo for the holidays."

"So you've said," he muttered.

"I wonder why airlines won't let you fly if you're in your third trimester of pregnancy," she wondered.

"Because, if for some reason, the cabin were to lose pressure, the baby would be deprived of oxygen," he answered simply.

"Then, wouldn't it be bad to fly in **any** trimester of pregnancy?" she asked.

"They're also afraid you'll go into premature labor," he returned with a sigh, as if the topic of conversation was annoying him.

"Well, at any rate," she continued, dismissing the reasoning and his tone with a shrug, "It'll be my parents, Annie, Del, Charlie, you, and me. So, seven total."

"With the way **you** eat," he quipped, "It'll seem like eight." She smirked in response.

"Oh, hush," she laughed. "I can't help it if little Josiah here is hungry!"

Richard rolled his eyes. "I said **maybe** on the name Josiah."

"Fine!" she huffed playfully, bringing the baby name book out from under her arm and opening it to the dog-eared page one-handedly. "Julian?"

"Oh, God," Richard groaned. "No."

"Justin?"

"No. Look, Caroline," he sighed, "Why don't you narrow the list down to names you like, **then** we'll sit down and choose. Ok?"

"Alright, alright," she said, closing the book.

"Are you nervous about telling your parents about us?" he asked cautiously, wondering if it was a source of tension for her like it was him.

"Not really," she answered, receiving a sideways glance of disbelief from him in response. "Ok," she admitted, "Maybe a little."

"What happens, if they disapprove?" he asked, trying to mask the worry in his voice.

"They won't," she answered easily, unconcerned.

"But, what if they **do**?" he asked again, and Caroline smiled when she caught the nervousness edging his tone.

"They won't," she repeated, "But even if they do," she added, "It won't change anything. I love you," she told him, bringing their clasped hands to her lips and kissing his, "And that's all that matters."

"Well, I hope it matters a little that I love you, too," he quipped, smiling when she nudged him with her shoulder in response.

"Of course it matters!" she laughed. "It matters a lot! Especially to me! And besides," she added, "My parents already know you. They already **like** you!"

"But, from what you've told me about them," he countered, "They sound a bit old fashioned. And this is a far from a traditional situation."

"They handled the news about me getting pregnant by a sperm donor ok, with minimal lecturing," she chuckled, but Richard didn't share in it.

"Do they know I'm the donor?" he asked seriously.

"They know," she answered, her tone matching his.

"So, when were you going to tell them?" he asked her, and she glared jokingly back at him.

"When were **you** going to tell them?!" she repeated, emphasizing the word 'you'.

"Alright," he conceded with a roll of his eyes. "When are **we** going to tell them?"

"After we pick them up from the airport," she answered. "After we take them to the hotel first, so they can drop off their luggage."

**XXX**

--Caroline and her parents, Margaret and Fred Duffy, with Richard bringing up the rear, all filed into Caroline's apartment, Margaret rambling on about the goings on in their hometown of Peshtigo.

"And then the Sweeney brothers won first place for the largest pumpkin at the Peshtigo county fair--"

Richard rolled his eyes, throwing Caroline a pleading look to make it stop.

"That's great, Mom," Caroline quickly interjected, somewhat interrupting her. "I have some news, too, actually," she added, stepping over to stand at Richard's side.

"You're having twins!" Margaret exclaimed, causing Richard to choke on his own spit.

"No, Mom," Caroline quickly corrected, "The two sonograms we've done shows only one baby."

"Well, with as big as you are," her mother muttered with a lilt to her voice.

"Yeah, thanks, Mom," Caroline said with a sigh, then gestured for her parents to take a seat on the couch. "This news isn't about the baby," she told them, taking a deep breath before wrapping her arm around Richard's waist. "It's about me and Richard," she added, pulling him tighter to her side when she felt his hand slip around to her shoulder.

"Mom, Dad," she announced, somewhat nervously, "Richard and I are a couple now."

Fred and Margaret stared back for several moments, looking shocked, or at least bewildered. It was Fred who eventually spoke first.

"I thought he was just the sperm donor."

"He was never **just** the sperm donor," Caroline replied defensively. "He's always been my friend!"

"And now he's your boyfriend?" Margaret asked, her heavy Wisconsin accent unable to hide her condescension.

Caroline sighed. "Yes, Mom, he is."

"Well, it seems you put the cart before the horse then, dear," her mom offered in analogy, causing Richard to find his shoelaces of the utmost importance.

"We know we did things a little backwards, but, we didn't know at the time of the in vitro procedure that we were going to fall in love." She gave Richard's waist a gentle squeeze as she explained.

"Are you getting married?" Margaret then asked, and Richard gripped Caroline's shoulder tighter in response.

"We have **talked** about marriage," Caroline answered, "But nothing's official yet."

"Well, it's your life, dear," Margaret sang, then quickly changed the subject. "So, when are we going to this Remo's you're always telling us about?"

"In a little bit," she told her, looking to Richard with an expression that silently spoke a hundred words and thoughts.

No one ever said, it's your life, when they approved of what you were doing, in her opinion, and Richard knew that was what she was thinking as soon as her mom uttered the words.

"So, you disapprove then," Richard stated with a softly spoken tone. It was his worst nightmare.

"It's not that," Fred responded, speaking for himself and his wife. "I guess what we don't understand is," he said to Richard, "Why did **you** do this?"

Richard and Caroline glanced at each other before giving their attention back to her parents.

"Richard isn't comfortable discussing personal aspects of his life-"

"It's ok, Caroline," Richard interrupted her. "It's a valid question. The initial conversations about it started because of a lack of communication. But ultimately, I did it, to make her happy. The procedure would have cost her money she didn't really have, if she had used a donor from the registry at the clinic. And with that, there would have been a question as to the clarity of the gene pool."

Fred and Margaret looked from Richard to their daughter, requesting an explanation to what he had just said, and Caroline rolled her eyes before she told them, "He did it to help me out."

"But not because he wanted to be a father," Margaret challenged, hiding her negative words behind her ever present cheery tone.

"He wanted to be a father to our son," Caroline defended him, "I just didn't know that till later."

"We had some communication problems in the beginning," Richard added.

"But we don't anymore," Caroline interjected, finishing his sentence for him.

"Bottom line, Puddin," Fred asked, using Caroline's childhood nickname, "Are you happy?"

"Yes," Caroline returned with absolute assuredness. "I'm **very** happy."

"Then we're happy for you," he announced, standing to hug his daughter. Margaret followed suit, though it seemed reluctantly.

"Now, when are we going to eat?" Margaret asked cheerfully. "We're starving!"

The one thing Margaret Duffy excelled at, Caroline knew from experience, was repression. Caroline had become proficient at reading between the lines when it came to her mother. Whatever was bothering her, it was far from over, just on hold.

**X**

--"Your mother hates me," Richard stated the moment they entered Caroline's apartment.

"She doesn't hate you," Caroline sighed, dropping her keys on the fishtank by the door. "I think the problem lies with me, more than you."

"Your dad doesn't seem to share her feelings," he surmised, offering his arm to her so she could balance herself while kicking off her shoes. As soon as they hit the ground, he bent over to pick them up.

"Dad's flexible," Caroline replied, taking the shoes from him and dropping them on the coffee table. "Mom's opinionated."

"Did you notice," Richard asked as he sat on the couch, "Her tone goes up an octave when she's hiding how she really feels?"

"I've noticed," she muttered, joining him. "Keeping up with her level of repression is exhausting! Glad I decided to cater tomorrow night's dinner. I don't have the energy to cook."

Taking her hand in his, he nuzzled up to her neck. "Do you have enough energy for love?" he asked in a whisper, kissing the lobe of her ear.

"Always," she whispered back, smiling as she tilted her head, a silent show of approval for the affection he was lavishing on her.

"Let's continue this upstairs," he suggested, standing and offering his assistance so she could as well.

Clothes were shed instantly upon entering the room, fingers tantalizing bare skin as they made their way to the bed.

Climbing in beside her, he teased her slowly, his lips brushing a path to the valley between her breasts as he pressed his body against hers.

Without hurry, his kisses finally found each taut peak of flesh, his breath warm on her skin as his tongue flicked and caressed them.

"How are you so good at this?" she asked breathlessly, writhing beneath his touch.

"I don't know," he whispered. "It's not like I've had much practice."

"Then you're naturally gifted," she sighed, whimpering with pleasure as his hand drifted between her legs.

"You're the only one who has thought so," he countered, torturing her delicate skin with leisurely strokes.

"They were **insane**," she insisted, groaning in disappointment when his fingers moved away from where she wanted them most.

"No," he told her, smiling as she squirmed impatiently. "**They**, were not my Sincere Amore."

Her eyes drifted open, gazing up at him. "Is that why this feels so amazing?" she asked, and he nodded before pressing his lips to hers, kissing her passionately as he finally rewarded her with the touch she had been desperate for.

Gasping as she broke free, she begged him to use his fingers, but he denied her, brushing past her ear as he whispered, "Patience."

At the breaking point, she pleaded with him once again, but he only teased her further by not quite entering her.

"Richard, please," she whimpered; he kissed her softly before murmuring against her lips.

"Wait for it," he said to her, kissing her again.

Her body tense, she moaned, and he let her climb for a moment before slipping inside her, causing her to cry out.

Easing up, he allowed her to drift, waiting till she started to relax before moving again, bringing with it another wave of pleasure.

Slowing to an almost stop, she began to quiet once more, and within seconds, he repeated the process, her body arching in response.

Exhausted and completely spent, she collapsed, sweat dampening her hair.

"How many did you have?" he asked, a slight grin of pride pulling at his lips.

Panting, she smiled as she answered, "Two. And a little aftershock."

He nodded, pleased. "We'll try for three and a half next time."

When he began to rock and move against her, she became fully aware of just how badly he needed release.

"Can you get there like that?" she asked, pushing against him to create more friction.

"Probably," he answered, his voice strained. "Why?"

"I like how it feels," she whispered, stroking his hair when he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"You can touch me," she told him. Even though his hand was resting on her thigh, she hoped he would know what she meant by her softly spoken words.

He nodded against her shoulder, swallowing hard before asking, "Open your legs?"

When she complied, he cupped her, running his middle finger along her slick skin. They moaned in unison, fueling him to pick up the pace.

By the sounds he was making, she could tell he was close, but something seemed to be holding him back.

Sensing what the possible problem was, she whispered into his hair, "Don't delay to impress me. You already have."

He shuddered, planting soft kisses before latching on to the tender skin beneath his lips. The moan that soon followed tickled her, blending the sensations from sharp to soothing.

The ceasing of movement, along with a quiet grunt of satisfaction told her he was finished, and she smiled to herself as she listened to his labored breathing, his head resting between her shoulder and chest.

"I love you, ya'know," she said with a sigh of contentment, running a single finger up his spine before dropping her hand lifelessly back onto the bed.

He nodded, the goosebumps she had created causing him to shiver. "I know," he whispered. "I love you too."

"I think we need a shower," she suggested, and he scoffed in response.

"I **know** we do," he said, shifting to look between them. He grimaced and pressed into her again. "Sorry about that."

She laughed. "I knew what to expect. C'mon," she added, moving to stand. "The sooner we shower, the sooner we can sleep."

He nodded, following in line behind her. "What time is the caterer coming tomorrow?"

"Nine," she answered, turning the shower on.

"And what time is everyone else expected?" he asked.

"Annie will be here early, everyone else is due at noon."

When the water felt warm enough, she stepped in, and Richard groaned as he joined her, muttering, "I still say your mom hates me."

"She doesn't," Caroline insisted again. "But either way," she added, snagging the bar of soap off the ledge and handing it over to him, "She'll be on her way back to Peshtigo in less than forty-eight hours. Just, try to be pleasant until then."

"Pleasant?" he asked cynically.

"Ok," she laughed, "Then, just, try not to kill her."

Smiling slight, he said to her, "I make no promises."

**TBC**

Author's note:

Ok, we're up to 'M' now. Hope those reading this can still find it. How do we like this chapter? Lots of smut! Heeheehee.

I have almost all of the next chapter complete, but it's in longhand, in the spiral notebooks. It will take me a little while to complete it, type it, then post it. After **that** chapter, it will take a bit more time to write and post, because I have a bunch going on in my life. Sorry about that. I'll try to keep a good pace going.

Ok, so, you know how to make me smile… review!

MTLBYAKY


	12. Chapter 12

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 12**

**XXX**

--The caterer buzzed about the kitchen, making Caroline's job as hostess far too easy. Never one to just sit, she busied herself with various tasks, finally settling on setting the beautifully decorated table with the borrowed china and silverware.

The small space was alive with idle chat and conversations, and Caroline was able to make out snippets of some as she rounded the large rented table, setting a place for each person in attendance.

"I wonder what dinosaurs ate for Thanksgiving," she heard Charlie say, and she suppressed a smile when Del responded with, "You're an idiot."

"What kind of name is Karinsky?" she heard her mother ask Richard, catching Caroline's previously distracted attention.

"Russian," Richard replied flatly, fidgeting slightly under Margaret's intense stare.

"Any mental instability in your family?" she then asked, her line of questioning leaving him with no doubt to what her thoughts and feelings were.

"The family dog thought his tail was an intruder, if that qualifies," he answered sarcastically, his gaze planted firmly on nothing directly in front of him.

Seemingly unfazed, Margaret continued. "What religion are you?"

Before Richard could answer, Fred spoke up. "Would you stop interrogating the boy!"

"I'm not interrogating him!" Margaret chirped. "I'm just talking to him!"

Fred scoffed. "The only thing missing is the bright light in his eyes!"

Having more than his fill of the conversation, Richard asked, "Caroline, do you need my help with anything?" His eyes begged her to save him.

"You could get the pies for me out of Annie's oven," Caroline suggested, smiling apologetically.

Richard eagerly pushed off the couch and headed for the door.

"I'll help him," Annie offered, following him immediately.

"What the hell was that?" Annie asked, handing him an oven mitt; he opened the oven door, then slid the mitt onto his hand.

"She hates me," he muttered.

"Why?" she asked, grabbing a second mitt for herself.

"I don't know," he answered, pulling the first pie out and setting it on the stove top.

Annie moved in to grab the second pie. "From the third degree she just gave you, it sounds like she's questioning the credibility of your little Karinskys."

"She didn't seem to have a problem with me being the donor **before**," he mumbled, closing the oven door. "It was only after we told her about **us**, that it became one."

"Her dad seems ok with things," Annie ventured, using her elbow to turn off the oven.

Richard reached over to help her. "He's either better at hiding his disdain," he said as he picked up the pie he was in charge of, "Or she's the only one with the problem."

"What does Caroline say?" Annie asked, stopping short of walking out the door into the hall.

"She says the problem is more about her, than me," he answered, gesturing with a jerk of his head that they should be getting back.

"Doesn't seem that way to me," Annie mused, following him, pulling her apartment door closed with her foot.

"Me either," he sighed, crossing the hall, stepping back into the lion's den.

"So," Margaret asked again, "What religion are you?"

Richard set the pie down on the counter before dropping his head in frustration. "My family is Jewish," he answered, flinging the oven mitt off his hand and onto the floor. "But I don't happen to practice a religion."

Margaret ignored his obvious irritation and immediately fired off another question. "What do your parents do for a living?"

"C'mon, everybody, it's time to eat," Caroline interrupted, hoping to stop her mother from pushing Richard over the edge. But it was too late.

"My mom is an interior designer and my dad is a shoes salesman," he snipped, initiating eye contact with her. "And before you ask," he added angrily, "My sister is a receptionist and my favorite color is black!"

"Leave the boy alone now, Margaret," Fred suggested softly, stepping up to the table with everyone else, but Margaret just stared back at Richard, almost as if challenging him.

"What's going on?" Del asked, confused by the display.

"I think Caroline's mom hates Richard," Annie whispered to him, joining the others in watching the stare-off between the two.

"We don't hate Richard," Fred offered, looking more to Caroline than anyone else. "We just don't understand-"

"What?" Richard asked sharply. "What don't you understand?"

"Why **you**?" Margaret shot back. "Who **are** you? Why did my daughter choose **you** to father her child? Why this procedure, instead of doing things in the proper order? Dating, marriage, **then** the child?"

"Mom!" Caroline whispered harshly. "This isn't the time or place-"

"You think I **forced** her to do this?" Richard asked severely, interrupting and ignoring Caroline's attempt to pacify the situation.

"You've been in love with Caroline since the park dedication!" Margaret announced. "We could see it, plain as day!" she added, gesturing between herself and her husband. "What, were you trying to **trap** her?"

Richard stared back with a cross of shock and horror.

"Mom," Caroline stepped in, speaking calmly. "He wasn't trying to trap me."

"Talk her into getting pregnant with **your** child, then she'll have to fall in love with you?" Margaret continued, ignoring her daughter.

Shaking his head first, Richard then ripped the glasses off his face and chucked them at the front door, the lenses popping out of the frames and shattering before they even hit the floor.

"I wasn't trying to trap her!" he yelled, unable to stop the tears that began to well in his eyes. "I was afraid to tell her! Afraid of losing her!"

Caroline rushed into the kitchen, pulling him into her arms.

"I wasn't trying to trap you," he cried, holding onto her desperately.

"I know that," Caroline whispered, brushing her fingers through his hair consolingly.

"You have it all wrong, Mrs. Duffy," Annie spoke up in Richard's defense. "Richie didn't talk Caroline into anything. I should know. I was there. And the only reason he didn't tell Caroline about his feelings for her earlier, is because he has low self esteem."

"Besides," Del interjected, "Richard is far too moral to do anything dishonest."

"He wouldn't even pretend to be gay to sell a painting!" Charlie added, to which Del rolled his eyes.

After a moment of awkward deafening silence, Margaret hummed, a somewhat guilty expression on her face as she walked towards the door. Without saying a word, she bent down to pick up the broken frames and shards of glass, heading for the kitchen once in her hands.

Seeing her mom on the approach, Caroline released Richard from her embrace, and he swiped at the tears on his cheeks before turning to face his accuser.

"I owe you an apology," Margaret said, handing him the pieces of his once-glasses. "I'll pay for another pair," she offered, but he shook his head in response.

"I have a spare pair," he muttered, tossing the bent metal and glass into the nearby trash can.

"I'll go get them," Caroline added, touching Richard's arm gently before moving past him and heading for the stairs.

"I'm sorry, Richard," Margaret apologized, and he nodded his head in acceptance.

"I'm sorry I yelled," he said to her, staring down at his feet.

"Well, I sorta deserved it, didn't I?" she chirped, her typical cheery tone returning. "I just worry about my daughter," she added, sounding a bit more serious. "You don't stop being a parent, just because your child is expecting one of their own."

Richard cracked a tiny smile, finally meeting her eyes. "I'll remember that, when the time comes."

He extended his hand to shake hers, but she glared back jokingly, and with a smirk in response.

"You're my grandson's daddy!" she exclaimed brightly. "I'm afraid a handshake just won't do!"

She threw her arms around him, making him instantly uncomfortable, especially in the wake of the argument that had taken place just minutes prior. But then he saw Caroline descending the stairs, the expression she wore as she viewed the scene tugging at his heart. Everything in her little world was right again, in her mind.

Apprehensively, he returned Margaret's gesture, but for Caroline's benefit alone. The woman in his arms was a virtual stranger, and had just accused him of unspeakable misdeeds against the woman he loved. He could forgive her, but mostly for the sake of keeping peace, and to make Caroline happy.

If not for Caroline's need to have him and her mother get along, he would have walked out the door, instead of throwing his glasses at it.

If not for Caroline, he realized, he would be alone and miserable. With that in mind, he decided to 'make nice', or at the very least, attempt to be pleasant.

"Well, now that **that's** settled," Fred announced with a clap of his hands, "Let's eat! Before the caterer forgets what he was hired to do!"

**XXX**

--The line seemed to stretch on for miles, as holiday passengers prepared to take their return flights home. Traditionally seen as one of the busiest travel days of the year, the terminal seemed to support this statistic, the vast number of people making movement difficult.

Richard groaned as they approached the baggage check-in line, dropping Margaret's luggage to the floor once in it. "Ugh! This is going to take hours!" he complained, turning to Caroline. "Why don't you go find a seat with your mom," he suggested. "Your dad and I can handle this."

Caroline agreed with a nod, already showing wear as she attempted to negotiate the crowd, her mother directly behind her.

"That was a good idea," Fred acknowledged, smiling in Richard's direction.

"Thank you," Richard replied awkwardly, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over his arm.

"You really do love her, don't you?" Fred asked, his tone and expression respectfully serious.

"Yes, sir," Richard answered. "I do."

"It shows," Fred admitted, shoving his hands in his pockets before adding, "Sorry we ruined your holiday."

"You didn't ruin my holiday," Richard spoke the half truth; his problem wasn't with Fred.

There was only a brief nod of acceptance, followed by strained silence, Fred only breaking it after the two men picked up the luggage and moved ahead three inches in line.

"Don't be too angry with her," Fred requested of him, referring to his wife. "She just worries about Caroline, since she's moved to the city."

"I'm not angry," Richard lied, wary of admitting his true feelings.

"Well, you're a better man than I," Fred laughed. "I'd be hoppin mad!"

Richard smiled in spite of the anxiety he was feeling over the conversation. He liked Caroline's father, even with his simple country way. Fred was easy-going, and pleasant when faced with adversity. He was a lot like Caroline, he realized, or she like him.

"Well, I didn't hop," Richard quipped, "But I did throw my glasses at the door!"

"I think everyone did a little hop, when you did that!" Fred chuckled. "Did you see Margaret's face?" he asked, amused by the memory.

"I didn't mean to startle her like that," Richard apologized guiltily. "I don't know why I did it."

"I do!" Fred exclaimed with a smile. "When she gets to goin on like that, it's enough to ruffle anyone's feathers!"

Richard laughed politely, forcing his eyes not to roll at the backwoods analogy.

"You're a good man, Richard," Fred told him, giving him a friendly slap on the back. "And don't worry about Mrs. Duffy," he added. "She'll come around."

**X**

--Stiffly, Margaret sat with her carry-on suitcase in her lap, watching as passersby shuffled towards their destinations.

"So," Margaret asked chipperly, finally breaking the minutes long silence, "Do you have any names picked out yet?"

"We have a couple on the maybe list," Caroline answered with a sigh. "Look, Mom, let's not do this, ok?"

"Do what dear?" Margaret asked.

"This avoidance thing," Caroline replied. "We need to talk about what happened yesterday."

"I apologized," Margaret reminded, and Caroline nodded in response.

"I know you did," she muttered in frustration, "But, there are some things you need to understand."

"I understand-"

"No, Mom, you don't," Caroline interrupted. "I know you would like nothing more than to believe that I was somehow coerced into doing this procedure, but that's not the truth! I did this," she explained, "Because I **wanted** to be pregnant! And Richard helped because he **wanted** to help! There was no ulterior motive! No hidden agenda! No one forced anyone! We discussed it and rehashed it a thousand times before we went through with it, Mom! And then," she added softly, "We just happened to fall in love."

He was in love with you **before** you got pregnant," Margaret interjected, then asked, "When did **you** fall in love with **him**?"

"I had feelings before then too," she admitted. "I just didn't realize it until after."

Margaret sighed, her cheery tone slipping slightly. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"Richard would never hurt me," Caroline defended him.

"Didn't he go to Paris on a whim, not that long ago?" Margaret asked bluntly.

"That was different," Caroline countered. "We weren't a couple then."

"But he was your assistant!" Margaret continued to make her point. "He left without saying goodbye! He left without even telling you why!"

"He thought I was marrying Del!" Caroline returned sharply. "He was heartbroken! He didn't leave to hurt me," she added, aware that their conversation was drawing attention and lowering her voice. "He didn't think I'd care."

"But you **did** care," Margaret muttered, her voice sounding strange. "He **hurt** you," she added, and it was then that Caroline noticed, her mother was crying.

"He didn't mean to, Mom," she told her, struggling to understand, struggling to make her mom understand. "Is that what this has been about? You're afraid Richard will leave me?"

"He does this procedure – no parental rights! He can leave anytime he wants! But then he asks for rights? **Then**, he tells you that he loves you?" Margaret sighed, attempting to compose herself. "I don't understand him!"

"Richard is a complex person," Caroline explained. "He's not an easy man to understand, sometimes."

"Exactly!" Margaret exclaimed. "So, how can you be so sure **you** understand him? How can you be so sure he won't hurt you again?"

"It's called trust, Mom," Caroline snipped in a whisper. "Believe me, I know his heart."

**X**

--"I don't understand it all," Fred explained to a rigidly tense Richard. "She rambles on and on sometimes. You know women," he added with a laugh. "But, at first, she was upset with **how** Caroline got pregnant. Then it was about you being the donor, but **not** the father. Then, you wanted to be a father, and she wasn't happy then, either!"

"Then, it was about the relationship," he continued, following Richard's lead when he grabbed the luggage and moved ahead in line. "I told her to stay out of it, but she doesn't usually listen to me."

"Hence the fight at Thanksgiving," Richard interjected flatly.

"Exactly!" Fred exclaimed. "First, she thought you were trying to somehow **trap** Caroline. Now her big thing is, that you're a flight risk."

"A flight risk?" Richard asked, confused.

Fred nodded. "Cause of that little trip to France you took, after Caroline called things off with Del."

"I wasn't in a relationship with Caroline when I left for Paris," Richard muttered defensively.

"Right," Fred returned with a shrug, "But you **were** her assistant."

Richard sighed, pinching his nose under the bridge of his glasses as he prepared to admit something he wasn't at all comfortable revealing. "I left because I couldn't sit there and watch Caroline and Del together, day after day."

"The cowards way out, don't'cha think?" Fred asked, receiving a sideways glance from Richard in response.

Richard liked Caroline's father a little less at that moment. "I suppose it was," he answered reluctantly, "But my intentions, though misguided, were not diabolical."

Fred laughed. "I'm not a college man, Richard! Could you dumb that down a bit for me, please?"

Cracking a small smile, Richard obliged. "I didn't leave to hurt her. I did it to save myself pain."

Fred laughed again, giving Richard a hearty two-pat slap on the back. "Love and pain go hand in hand, kiddo! If you're lucky enough to find love, it's worth the pain."

Nodding, Richard sighed. "I agree with you."

"Glad to hear it," Fred accepted with a sharp nod. "So, no more unexpected trips then?"

"No," Richard answered, shaking his head briefly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good man," Fred praised him, then pointed ahead in line. "And, lookee there! We're almost to the front!"

With an inward sigh of relief, Richard nodded, grateful that the run-in with his future in-laws was almost over with.

**X**

--"Well, you know him better than we do, dear," Margaret sighed. "Just promise me you won't marry him **just** because you're having his baby."

"No, Mom," Caroline told her with a groan, "When I marry him, I'll be doing it cause I love him."

"When?" Margaret asked, her eyes growing wider.

"Yes, **when**," Caroline returned, exhaling sharply as she attempted to adjust to a comfortable position the best she could in the unforgiving plastic chair. "**When** he asks me," she added, rubbing her swollen belly, "I already know my answer will be yes."

"How do you know he'll even ask you?" she questioned her daughter.

"Because, Mom," Caroline sighed in exasperation, "We do more than in vitro procedures and color in 'my little comic strip'! We also **talk**!"

Margaret seemed offended. "Why are you getting so huffy with me?"

"You've done nothing but criticize Richard ever since you got here!" she snipped back. "And he hasn't done anything to deserve your treatment of him!"

"There you are!" Richard exclaimed, approaching through the crowd and interrupting the argument between mother and daughter. "Fred!" he called out with a wave, "They're over here!"

As Fred caught up with him, Richard dodged and weaved around those in his way, his slight smile fading as he got close enough to see the expression Caroline wore on her tired face. "What's wrong?" he asked as he leaned in, placing a kiss in her hair and his hand atop her abdomen. "You look upset."

Caroline shook her head, glancing over at her mom before muttering, "Just tired."

"Do you want me to go get you a fruit smoothie or something?" he asked, kneeling in front of her. "They're bound to have some kind of foofy, juicy, something-or-other place in here somewhere."

Even with the stress and strain she was feeling over the very recent argument she'd just been having, Caroline cracked a smile, nodding slightly.

"Ok," he whispered, standing and kissing her lips softly before heading out in the opposite direction he had initially come from.

"He really takes care of you," Fred addressed his daughter, "Doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Caroline said with a grin, "He really does."

"You look tired, Pudd," Fred pointed out, looking from Caroline to his wife. "You giving her a hard time about the boy?" he asked Margaret.

Margaret scoffed. "I wasn't giving her a hard time!" she insisted. "I was just talking with her!"

"Dumplin," he said to his wife, "I just had a long talk with him. He's a good kid. He's not going to leave her."

"That's what **I** tried to tell her!" Caroline interjected, flustered. "She doesn't believe me."

"I never said that," Margaret countered. "I said I don't understand him."

"What's to understand?" Fred asked with a laugh. "Everyone makes mistakes! So, he made some! He's moved on! You need to let it go," he told his wife, then winked at his daughter, who smiled gratefully in return.

"I'm trying," Margaret sighed, but her tone clearly indicated that she wasn't quite ready to forgive.

**X**

--The chairs around them occupied by others, Richard sat on the floor at Caroline's feet, his head leaning back onto the small amount of lap she had left in her very pregnant state.

The foursome sat in silence, Richard's eyes closed due to exhaustion and the affection Caroline was showing him as she raked her fingers gently through his hair.

Richard preferred the lack of conversation. He was sick of fighting, and sick of the accusations thrown at him over the last two days. Instinctively, he knew Caroline and her mother had argued. He could see it clearly, written all over Caroline's face. Dropping it when she said she was just tired, he made a mental note to ask her about it later.

Whatever the argument was about, though he was fairly certain it was about him, it served to drain Caroline of her energy and color. She looked beyond tired. She looked worn to a frazzle. With every announcement over the loudspeaker, he'd open his eyes and stare at the ceiling, silently praying that her parents' flight number would be called for boarding, so he could take her home and care for her.

"Are you ok?" Caroline whispered to him, and he opened his eyes, smiling up at her.

"Are you?" he mouthed the words, then gestured with his eyes towards her mom.

Caroline offered a slight smile and nod, continuing to caress his soft curls.

"Boarding for flight--"

"Please let this be it," Richard begged no one, inside his mind only.

"That's us!" Fred announced, pushing off his chair and helping his wife with her carry-on bag. "Gate eighteen."

"Thank God," Richard mumbled quietly to himself, standing.

"We'll walk you to the gate," Caroline offered, noticing Richard's sigh and barely perceptible slump of his shoulders when she did. She offered him an apology with her expression alone, and he nodded in receipt of it, lacing his fingers through hers as they led the way through the busy airport terminal.

**X**

--"Call us when you get home," Caroline asked of her mother as she hugged her goodbye, "So we know you got there safely."

"We will dear," Margaret agreed, adding, "And we'll see you at Christmas, if you still want us to come out."

"Of course we do, Mom," Caroline insisted, not even having to look at Richard to know his face was holding a cynical expression.

"Well," Fred chuckled, extending his hand towards Richard, "It's been, interesting."

Richard smiled at the understatement, accepting the gesture and returning it. "Yes, it has."

"And I guess we'll be seeing you at Christmas," Fred added, slapping Richard's shoulder before releasing his hand.

Smiling politely, Richard bit his tongue as he offered a single nod. Spending another holiday with the woman who was now approaching him would test every fiber of his patience, he knew, but admitting such would be just as unpleasant.

"I guess I'll be seeing you in a few weeks," Margaret said to him, wrapping him in an awkward hug.

"Looks that way," Richard stated carefully, placing his arms around her and his hands on her back tentatively.

"Please," she whispered to him, "Don't hurt her."

Richard sighed, his eyes closing as if in pain. "Trust me," he whispered back, "I won't."

**TBC**

Author's note:

Ok, there was at least one person who had a problem following the story once I upped the rating. Let me ask, is there any way you think the content up till this point can be listed under 'T'? Or do you think the rating needs to be at 'M' now? Let me know, k?

I have most of the next chapter done, but after that, nothing. Not even a chapter summary or synopsis, so, after I post the next chapter, the updates will be slow going. Sorry about that. I'll try to keep going as quickly as I can, but with my life as it is, I can't promise anything.

Ok, so, send me those reviews, folks! I need them!

MTLBYAKY


	13. Chapter 13

**Caroline and the Sperm Donor**

By: Jana

**Chapter 13**

**XXX**

--Caroline's apartment had never seemed so inviting. After the hours-long trip to the airport, Richard's body and mind was completely drained of energy. But as exhausted as he was, Caroline appeared worse.

"You look beat, Caroline," Richard told her as he helped her off with her coat and hung it on the hook by the door. "Why don't you go lie down, and I'll make you some tea."

Sighing, she shook her head, taking a weak step towards her desk. "I have too much to do today."

"The strip can wait," he insisted, catching her hand before she could take a second step away. "You look like death."

She laughed tiredly. "Thanks. But, no, I can't. I'm too far behind as it is-"

As she started to pull away, he held tighter, then turned her to face him. "You **need** to rest," he scolded her gently. "Go to your room and get into bed," he ordered her, physically aiming her towards the stairs. "I'll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in."

She laughed again, then begrudgingly took the first step up. "Yes, sir," she joked, smiling back at him. "Could I get a little lemon and honey in my tea?"

Nodding, he then pointed at the ceiling. "Go!" he demanded, his grin fading as she turned away to comply.

There was no way her looking that worn was a good thing, he thought to himself, then hung his coat on the hook before heading for the kitchen.

**X**

--Offering him a quiet thank you as he entered the room, she took the cup and sipped the hot liquid carefully before setting it and the saucer down on her bedside table.

"I guess you and my dad had a good talk today," she said to him, seemingly out of nowhere, and he shrugged in response after joining her on the bed, taking a seat at the edge.

"We talked," he told her, "But I don't know how good it was."

"My dad seemed to think it was," she said, asking, "What did you guys talk about?"

"Your mom, mostly," he answered.

"What did she whisper to you," she asked him, "Before they left up the boarding ramp?"

Sighing, he said, "She asked me not to hurt you."

There was a slight shake of her head before she moved to retrieve her cup. "Thanks for not killing her," she muttered, a hint of humor in her tone, then she took another cautious sip of her tea to hide her smile when he chuckled.

"You're welcome," he said, but then his expression seemed grew serious. Pausing a moment, he eventually asked her, "Did it hurt you, when I left for Paris?"

The steaming liquid became her focal point, in that moment, and then she tipped the cup to her lips once again, trying to decide how best to answer his question.

"You're stalling," he realized, bringing it to her attention that he did.

"I was sad," she told him, choosing her words carefully, "And confused, but I wasn't devastated."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," he explained his past actions. "I didn't think it would matter."

"It mattered," she admitted, "And not just because you were my assistant."

Dropping his gaze to the floor, he shook his head. "If I could go back and make different choices, I would."

"I know that," she whispered.

"I never would have left, had I known…" When he trailed off, she nodded in understanding.

"I know that, too," she assured him, setting her cup back on its saucer. "Lay down with me," she requested of him, patting the bed beside her. "You look like you could use some rest, too."

Shoes still on, he climbed in beside her, snuggling up to her and kissing her temple. "I love you so much," he whispered in her ear, and she sighed contentedly.

"I love you, too," she whispered back, adding, "Have I ever thanked you, for how well you take care of me?"

"No," he quipped, smiling against her cheek. "And you're welcome."

**XXX**

--Over a week had passed, and Caroline was still showing the effects from the Thanksgiving holiday. Pale, moody, tired; there was a permanent scowl of exhaustion on her usually happy face, all of which lending to Richard's state of worry.

The simple joy of life she exhibited each day was all but missing, and whereas before, she was almost insatiable, now, she seemed to lack the energy to do even the simplest of tasks. Even her strip was starting to suffer.

Deadlines were barely met, if at all, and the late night hours kept in the attempt to catch up was beginning to take its toll on both Caroline and Richard.

Glancing up at Caroline from his side of the desk, Richard could see the strain she was feeling etched into her expression as she tapped her pen in slow motion against her empty sketch pad. She needed to rest, but he knew if he suggested it, she would refuse.

Careful not to give away his concern, he asked simply, "Blocked?"

"A little," she admitted with a sigh.

His attention divided between the panel he was working on and her, he watched as she brushed her bangs off her forehead before leaning it against her palm.

"Maybe you should make some of those, allspice rice krispie things," he said, trying to sound casual. "That usually helps you."

"No," she muttered shortly, dropping her arm to the desk, her eyes downcast.

It was obvious to him that she was fighting to stay conscious. "Why don't you take a nap," he finally suggested, knowing what her answer would be before he even said it.

"I don't want to sleep," she muttered defensively. "I want to draw."

"You're creatively stymied because you're exhausted, Caroline! Getting some rest would be beneficial for you **and** your strip!"

"I'm not exhausted," she sighed, sounding somewhat irritated, "I'm just a little tired."

"A **little** tired?" he scoffed. "By your demeanor, I'd guess that you haven't slept at all in over a week!"

"I've slept!" she shot back weakly. "Surprisingly, since I'm as big as a house and carrying a thirty-four week old acrobat inside of me!"

His stance and tone softening, he asked, "Is the baby keeping you up nights?"

"No," she insisted. "I told you, I've been sleeping."

"All the more reason why you being tired all of the time is a concern," he told her, moving off his stool and cornering the desk. "Maybe we should take you to the doctor."

"I don't need to see the doctor," she argued, capping her pen and slamming it down on the desk. "I told you, I'm **fine**!"

Helplessly, he watched her slide off her stool and waddle towards the bathroom, flinging the door closed loudly once inside.

It wasn't the first time she had refused to listen to reason. Just short of dragging her, he doubted seriously that he would be getting Caroline to the doctor before her next scheduled appointment.

**XXX**

--The shopping cart was annoying Richard, with its wobbly wheel and inability to make right turns without struggling, but with as frustrating as that was, Annie's behavior was more so. In every aisle they went down, she would grab things off of shelves and throw it in the basket, acting like a kid in a candy store who had never seen sweets before in her life.

Richard groaned as a carton of ice cream hit the bread. It was the last straw. "Annie!" he snipped, "I'm not paying for that!"

"It's not your money," she returned without flinching. "It's Caroline's."

"Then Caroline's not paying for that!" he corrected, grabbing the item off the now-squished loaf and handing it back to her. "Get your own cart!"

Rolling her eyes, she asked, "What's gotten into you?" She placed the ice cream in a different location within the same basket and started walking once again. "You're bitchier than usual."

"Nothing," he grumbled, pushing hard on the defective cart and following her.

Annie just scoffed. "Nothing my ass!"

The crass words and tone she used made him want to share with her that much less. "Just drop it," he muttered, his gaze back on the shopping list Caroline had given him.

A heaviness seemed to take him over, and Annie winced as she witnessed it. "Richard," she asked softly, "Do you need to talk?"

Glancing over at her, he saw the genuine expression her face held and sighed. "I think something is wrong with Caroline," he confided in her.

"What do you mean?" she asked with a slight scowl.

"She's so pale!" he answered, his inflection indicating just how concerned he was. "She's tired, all the time! She's not- She's not herself."

"Well," she offered, "She **is** thirty-five weeks pregnant."

"It goes beyond that," he told her, frustrated. "She says she's been sleeping, but she doesn't look or act like she has."

"You sleep next to her every night," Annie reminded, then asked, "**Does** she sleep? Is she tossing and turning a lot?"

"No more than usual," he answered. "She seems to be sleeping ok, which just makes no sense! If she's getting enough rest, why does she look and act like she's not?"

"Well, what does her doctor say?" she asked, stopping his forward movement by standing in front of the cart.

"Her scheduled appointment isn't until next week," he said to her, "And she refuses to go before it."

"And you've talked to her about this already, I'm assuming," she asked, and he nodded as he slumped against the push handle of the basket. "How long has she been like this?"

"Two weeks," he answered. "Since the day after Thanksgiving," he added.

"You really think something might be wrong?" He nodded in answer to her question. "Well, then," she suggested, taking charge and giving the cart a tug, prompting Richard to follow her up and out of the aisle, "Let's hurry up here so we can drag her ass to the doctor!"

**XXX**

--Caroline sighed as she stepped through the double glass doors, her exasperation somewhat hiding her exhaustion.

"I told you guys," she complained, "I'm fine!"

"Then this shouldn't take long," Annie returned sharply, pointing at a waiting room chair, silently ordering her friend to take a seat in it. "Here," she added, handing her a parent minded magazine from off a nearby table, "Read this and chill."

Richard acknowledged Annie with a brief glance when she approached the front counter where he stood, as he added Caroline's name to the list of walk-in patients. "Thank you," he whispered, receiving a nudge from her in response.

"You were right about her being pale," she whispered back, leaning into him. "I don't know why I didn't see it before."

He nodded. "I think she's in denial, because she doesn't want to think something could be wrong."

"Let's just hope that if something **is** wrong, it isn't too serious."

He nodded again, adding, "Or that we didn't wait too long to bring her in."

--In spite of her insistence that she wasn't tired, sleep enveloped Caroline quickly. The exam table was far from comfortable, but even so, it was a brief journey from lying down, to closing her eyes, to drifting off.

Richard shifted in his hard plastic chair, arms folded across his chest, head bowed, eyes shut. He only stirred slightly and glanced briefly in Annie's direction when she moved in the seat she occupied beside him to grab a magazine off the counter near the sink.

"For someone who isn't tired," Annie whispered to him, "She sure did fall asleep, no problem."

"She's always on the verge, lately," he whispered back, peeking over at Caroline before closing his eyes again. "It's like she's Narcoleptic."

The word was completely foreign to her. "What's Narcoleptic?" she asked.

"A condition that causes you to fall asleep at any time, in any place, for no discernable reason."

"You think that's what she has?" she asked with concern.

"No," he answered, unmoving, eyes still closed, "She would have shown symptoms way before now. I think this has to do with the pregnancy."

Annie nodded as she began thumbing through her magazine. It was several minutes later when she asked, "What's taking so long, anyway?"

Richard startled at the sound of her voice. "Lab work takes time," he muttered, allowing his gaze to land on the white cotton ball taped just below the crook of Caroline's elbow, before closing his eyes once again.

"She didn't even want them to draw her blood," Annie said in amazement. "She even argued with the doctor!"

"She's scared," he surmised, fidgeting in his uncomfortable position. "She thinks if she ignores the elephant in the room, it will go away on its own."

"I would want to know, if something was wrong," Annie muttered, her attention back on the pages in front of her.

Nodding, and without thinking it through to the inevitable conversation that would come from such a comment, Richard mumbled, "I just hope it wasn't anything I did."

Confused, her attention back on him, she asked, "What do you mean by **that**?"

Realization hit him, and he groaned as it did. He should not have even broached the subject, but it was too late to take it back. It was already said.

"Nothing," he answered, trying to dodge her inquiry. "Forget about it."

Annie scoffed. "Doubtful!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "What did you mean by that?" she asked again, a little more pointedly.

"I didn't mean anything by it," he grumbled. "Just, drop it!"

Annie wasn't about to do that. "Not until you tell me what this is about! I know you would never hurt her-" Richard glaring at her in response caused her to stop the sentence abruptly. "Ok, so, then, what could you possibly have done to cause this?"

Exhaling sharply as he realized he was going to have to give her at least **some** information before she would even consider leaving him alone about it, he muttered, "Leading up to Thanksgiving, we were, **intimate**, a lot. Let's just leave it at that."

"Let's don't," she shot back, then dropped her magazine back on the counter and glanced at Caroline before pressing further. "How could getting your jollies lead to **this**?" she asked, gesturing to the woman who continued to snore lightly.

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know."

"You guys have been, **intimate**, for a while now," she pointed out, using his word for the act to keep him from reacting negatively and shutting her out. "It was never a problem **before**. Unless," she added, pausing before asking, "Did you guys **finally** start having **actual** sex?"

He glared at her again before whispering sternly, "Not that it's any of your business, but no, we haven't."

"Then, what's changed?" she asked, honestly curious.

Closing his eyes, as if it pained him to tell her, he admitted reluctantly, "I figured out how to give her multiple orgasms."

"You **stud**!" Annie praised him, smiling broadly, and Richard shot her a dirty look to express his disgust with her.

"It's not a good thing, Annie!" he told her sharply, "If it's causing her to be ill!"

She shook her head, her smile remaining. "It's not."

"How would **you** know?" he asked irately.

"Because," Annie explained, "Pregnant or not, an orgasm wouldn't cause this level of exhaustion. You might be happily sleepy for a few hours, but it sure wouldn't drag on for weeks!"

"How could you **possibly** know that?" he challenged her.

Laughing, she told him, "If you want to know about sirloin steak, you see a butcher. If you want to know about orgasms--" She then gestured to herself, which caused even rigidly uptight Richard to crack a smile. "Don't worry, Studly Dooright," she teased, "You could hit the joy button a hundred times and it wouldn't cause a problem."

"Thanks," he muttered, embarrassed, but still he took a small amount of comfort in her crude but informative words.

"So," she asked with a smirk, "Just how many we talkin about?"

His scowl returned. "That's none of your business," he snipped.

"Aww, c'mon Richie," she sang, "Nothing to be embarrassed about! I'm proud of ya! I'm sure Caroline is too," she added. "No one else has ever been able to do that for her!"

Surprised by the admission, he asked, "And you know this, **how**?"

Annie's smile grew. "Cause she told me!"

"She told you about **me**?" he asked, sounding horrified by the thought of it.

"No," she answered, "She told me about the **others**. She won't tell me much about **you**," she added, "Cause of your weird privacy issues."

"It's not weird to want to keep some things private from **some** people," he defended himself.

"Whatever," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "How many, Studly?"

He shook his head in answer, then asked hesitantly, "Even Del couldn't give her multiples?"

Annie grinned, hearing the underlying pride in his tone. "Del sometimes didn't even give her **one**!" she told him, noticing a slight smile creep across his face. Nudging him, she asked again, "How many?"

He gave her a sideways glance before finally admitting, "Three."

Annie nodded appreciatively. "Nice."

With only a brief knock to announce his presence, the doctor entered abruptly, startling Caroline awake and immediately gaining Richard's and Annie's attention.

"We got the test results back," he told them as he scanned the contents of his patient's chart. "Everything is progressing well," he said, and Caroline was all set to gloat, until he spoke again. "But," he added, "You **are** Anemic."

The smile dropped from Caroline's face.

"What does that mean?" Annie asked, her brow furrowed.

"Low iron," Richard answered softly, relieved, and the doctor smiled back.

"Bingo!" he exclaimed, pulling a prescription pad out of his lab coat pocket. "I'm going to prescribe you an iron supplement, and I want you to take it with your prenatal vitamin each morning."

"Ok," Caroline agreed sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with Richard.

"In a few days," the doctor informed them, "She'll be right as rain."

Richard thanked him as he took the slip of paper from his hand, waiting for him to exit before stepping over to help Caroline off the exam table.

"I'm sorry," Caroline apologized in a whisper, and Annie took that as her cue to leave.

"I'm gonna go back to the waiting room," she said as she headed for the door, then without hesitation, left through it.

Richard sighed, staring at Caroline, though her gaze was firmly planted on the ground. "We're in this together, Caroline, aren't we?"

"Of course we are," she answered remorsefully. "I wasn't trying to exclude you."

"Then you need to at least **consider** my opinions!" he shot back. "I could **tell** something was wrong, but you refused to listen to me! This is **my** baby too!" he added sternly.

"Why are you snapping at me?" she asked, hurt by his tone. "I just didn't think anything was wrong!"

"Didn't think, or didn't **want** to think?" he asked, almost as if accusing her of something.

"Both. Maybe. I don't know," she answered, turning away from him.

He spun her back around, gently but firmly, with an almost forceful encouragement that she look him in the eye. "You can't just pretend problems don't exist!" he scolded her.

She shook her head. "It's not like anemia is all that serious!"

"We got lucky that it **wasn't** something serious, Caroline! **This** time! What about **next** time?"

"How can you be so sure there **will** be a next time?" she shot back, matching his tone.

"How can **you** be so sure there **won't**?" he asked, then gestured with his hands that they should call a truce. "I don't necessarily think there will be a next time," he told her, his voice softer. "I just don't want you to ignore what your body is trying to tell you. In the future."

"I wasn't ignoring what my body was saying," she muttered, defeated. "I just figured, it would turn out to be nothing. Like when the baby had the hiccups."

He nodded, ready to end and move on from the argument. "Just promise me you won't assume anymore," he requested of her. "Promise me, if something seems off, you'll be honest with me, and talk to me about it."

Though her reaction was slight, it surprised Richard. She smiled.

"Why are you smiling?" he asked her.

With a light touch, she slid her hands up his chest to meet and clasp behind his neck. "You really do like me, don't you?" she whispered, then reached for his lips with her own, a soft, brief kiss following.

"Of **course** I like you, Caroline," he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her. "I **love** you!"

"I love you, too," she told him, her gaze lingering for a few moments longer, before moving away from him and heading towards the door. "Let's go home," she suggested, a sly smile inching onto her face.

"As soon as we fill **this**," he said as he waved the small paper in his hand, following her out into the hall.

When Annie saw them on the approach, and saw the expressions they were both wearing, she knew everything had been resolved between them.

"Everything ok?" she asked Caroline, standing to meet her.

"Yeah," Caroline said, adding, "Richard loves me."

Annie had to laugh. "Well, duh!"

Richard rolled his eyes at her less than eloquent response. "Well put."

"Aww, cheer up, Richie!" Annie exclaimed as she ruffled his hair; he immediately ducked away from her touch. "All's well that ends well, right?"

"Yeah, well," he muttered, talking more to himself, staring down at the prescription still clutched in his hand, "It isn't over yet."

**XXX**

--With a newfound energy, Caroline decorated every inch of the small apartment to a nauseating degree. And while Richard despised every bunt and bow, if it made Caroline happy to decorate like she was trying to impress Santa Claus himself, he would grunt and bear it.

It was hard though, not to at least smile over her enthusiasm for the Christmas holiday.

"Those iron pills sure did the trick," Annie mused, whispering to Richard as she thread popcorn onto a string, per Caroline's request, to be used as garland on the tree.

"They did," he admitted, "But that's not all this is," he added, referring to Caroline's extreme vivacity. "She's thirty seven and a half weeks pregnant now. **This**," he told her, "Is the nesting period."

"What's a nesting period?" Annie asked with furrowed brow.

"Closer to the end of pregnancy," Richard explained, "Most women get this incredible burst of energy. They become obsessed with cleaning, and making things just right for the baby's arrival."

"C'mon, Annie," Caroline unknowingly interrupted, "That popcorn isn't going to string itself!" She clapped her hands together a few times in rapid succession, then quickly grabbed a box marked 'Christmas decorations' and pulled out a tangled string of lights, starting to work on unknotting it.

Annie rolled her eyes. "Nesting or not, does she have to drag us along with her?"

Smirking, Richard said sotto, "It won't be for much longer."

"You think she's close to delivering?" Annie asked, and Richard nodded in response. "How can you tell?"

"Besides how many weeks she is, and the nesting thing," he told her, "She's dropping. The baby is lower than before."

"And that means what?" Annie questioned him quietly, sneaking a peek at Caroline, who was still struggling with the knotted lights.

"The baby is getting into position for delivery," he answered, then hopped off his stool and approached Caroline. "Alright, I finished coloring the gift tags you made," he muttered as he thrust the stack of papers towards her. "Can I get back to my crappy job now?"

Smiling at his annoyance, she pointed to the coffee table, requesting he place the finished tags down, then said to him, "Right after you give me a kiss."

After setting the homemade gift tags down where she'd asked him to, he glanced at Annie out of his peripheral vision before leaning in and kissing her lips softly and affectionately, but conservatively.

"I love you," she whispered, grinning up at him, and Richard forgot all about the brunette stringing popcorn for the moment as he smiled in return.

I love you, too," he whispered back, tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear. "Can I get back to my crappy job now?" he asked again, jokingly, and she rolled her eyes as she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Go ahead, Mr. Scrooge," she quipped, returning her attention to her task.

"When will your parents be here?" Annie asked Caroline as Richard walked away from her, smirking at him as he stepped up to the desk. He only glared at her in response.

"Not for a few more hours," Caroline answered. "Del's picking them up for me." Richard smiled imperceptibly, pleased that he wouldn't have to fight the airport, traffic, or with Caroline's mother till later in the afternoon.

"How long are they staying for?" Annie then asked, but it was Richard who answered.

"Through New Years," he grumbled, obviously unhappy about that fact, his previous happiness slipping.

"It'll be better this time," Caroline promised him, catching the displeasure in his tone. "Dad says Mom's coming around."

Richard would've liked to have come back with a sarcastic comment, but instead, he simply nodded.

"Do you know how sexy you are when you pout?" Caroline teased him, fighting to keep from joining Annie in laughter.

Scowling, he avoided eye contact as he returned to his work, a cross between embarrassed and irritated. He didn't mind it so much, when Caroline played with him like that, unless Annie was present.

Even though they had something closely resembling a friendship, Annie still teased him when it came to such things. He supposed she always would, since she seemed so fond of doing so.

"Happy holidays!" Del exclaimed as he walked through the door unannounced, obliviously chipper.

"Or, unhappy holidays," Charlie added, fast on Del's heels, "If you choose to be miserable during this time of year!"

Annie chortled. "That describes Richie to a T!"

"Where's the little butter cookies shaped like little sheep?" Del immediately asked, sniffing at the air like a blood hound, causing Caroline to laugh.

"Is that all I am to you?" she questioned him, giving him and Charlie both a quick friendly hug. "Butter cookies and comic strips?"

"No!" Del answered defensively.

"You're also cards and calendars!" Charlie added exuberantly, receiving a prompt yet light smack upside the head from Del for the comment.

Caroline smirked at their antics as she headed for the kitchen. Handing a plastic container over to Del, she asked Charlie, "You bring that Christmas album I asked to borrow?"

"Yep!" Reaching into his messenger bag, he produced a CD from it, giving it over to Caroline before helping himself to a cookie from the container Del was hovering and near drooling over.

"What Christmas album?" Richard asked cautiously, knowing any answer she gave would be a bad one.

"Jingle Kitties," Caroline told him with a widening smile. "Salty **loves** this CD!"

"Oh, God," Richard groaned, slumping in his seat, "I feel a migraine coming on."

"Well, ya'know," Annie suggested, "If the idea of Christmas carols is so appalling to you, you could always go with Del to pick up Caroline's parents!"

Richard instantly recoiled at the thought of it. "It can't be any worse than listening to Annie warble on stage in her flea infested costume," he muttered sarcastically, then returned his attention to his work, as if indifferent, ignoring the glare Annie was throwing at him.

"The term is Merry Christmas, guys," Caroline scolded, "Not Bitchy Christmas! Annie," she ordered her friend, "Leave Richard alone. Richard," she said to him, her tone softening slightly, "We'll try to keep the merriment on the other side of the room while you work. Ok?"

He nodded in acceptance, then watched discreetly as Caroline unplugged her CD player and waddled towards the livingroom with it. With as big as she was and as low as she was carrying, he doubted she would last until New Years. Any day now, they would officially be parents.

He smiled.

**To be continued**

Author's notes:

I know it's been a while since I've updated… ten months, to be exact, but, my muse kinda left me on this story, and I ended up back over in the 'Friends' fandom. Sorry about that.

There will be two more chapters, the second one being an epilogue chapter, but I can't promise how fast those will be coming. My muse just isn't working with me on this story. I think part of it might be, because this fandom sees few visitors, and even fewer reviews. I live for them (reviews), and when I don't get them, I tend to lose interest in what I'm writing.

But in the interest of not leaving this story hanging, which is a pet peeve of mine, I am trying really hard to finish it. Hope it doesn't suck, LOL.

Please review!

MTLBYAKY


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